I 



SPUR INN A. 



A few Copies of this Essay were printed in 
August 1813 for some of the Author's personal 
Friends* Their favourable opinion has induced 
him to publish it with additions, and in a less 
compressed form. 

T. B. 

Wimpole Street, 
9,7th April, 1S16. 



^^^SPURINNA UUy^ 

OR 

THE COMFORTS OF OLD AGE. 

WITH NOTES 
AND BIOGRAPHICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 

y" 
BY SIR THOMAS BERNARD, BARONET. 

Lenior et melior jis accedente senecta. 




LONDON: 

printed by w. bulmer and co. cleveland- row, 

st. james's, 

FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME AND BROWN; 
PATERNOSTER-ROW. 

1816. 



<> 



INSCRIBED. TO. 
SHUTE . BISHOP . OF . DURHAM . 
AS. A. SMALL. TESTIMONY. OF. 
AFFECTION . AND . GRATITUDE. 

BY. THE. AUTHOR. 



CONTENTS. 





page 


Preface 


1 


Bishop Gibson 


- 31 


Mr. Lyttelton 


- 15 


Marriage Union 


- 18 


Evidences of Revelation 


24 


Conversion of St. Paul 


-j 25 


Journey through Life 


27 


Internal Resources 


31 


Inconveniences of age 


35 


1st. — Unfitness for public Life 


36 


William the Third 


37 


Duke of Marlborough 


— 


Sergeant Maynard 


38 


Lord Sotners - 


- 39 


Sir Isaac Newton 


40 


Clement the Twelfth 


- 42 


Marshal Villars 


— 


Solon - 


- 45 


Cardinal Fleury 


- 47 


Sir Robert Walpole 


— 


Archbishop Sancroft 


- 50 


2d. — Infirmity of body 


54 


Temperance 


55 


Corporal strength 


- 56 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

page 

Account of Spurinna - 57 

Milton and Homer - • - 59 

3d. — Loss of animal enjoyment - 62 

Mental Pleasures - - - 63 

Progress of Intellect - - 64 

Connubial Attachment 66 

4th.— Anxiety about Death 67 

Animal pain of dying - 69 

Lord Russel - - - 71 

Queen Mary - - 72 

Queen Caroline - 73 

Terrors of an unknown World - 74 

Tribute to the Memory of a Friend 77 

Sources of Consolation - 79 

Use of Afflictions 81 

Omission of Prayer - - 82 

Neglect of the Sacrament 83 

Religious Despondency - - 84 

Intercession of Christ 85 

Comforts of old age 87 

Episcopal Exemptions 88 

Cornaro - - 89 

Sir John Floyer - - - 90 

Melioration of temper - - 91 

Self-examination - - 93 

Sources of Cheerfulness - 95 

Vain and fruitless desires 97 

Personal Anxiety - . - 99 

Political Anxiety - - 102 



CONTENTS. 


IX 




page 


Religious Anxiety 


104 


Progress of Infidelity 


~ 105 


Union of Christians 


106 


Error and Heresy 


- 108 


Enthusiasm 


110 


The Methodists 


- 112 


Social Intercourse 


117 


Cheerful Habits 


- 118 


Effects of a Studious Life 


- 123 


Amusing Books 


125 


Voyages and Travels 


127 


Cervantes and Le Sage 


- 128 


Moliere and Shakespeare 


- 130 


Arabian Nights 


- 132 


Diamonds 


135 


Duty of Charity 


138 


Extent of Example 


140 


Employment of Time 


141 


Building 


143 


Occupation 


145 


Retrospective Reflections 


147 


Universal Education 


148 


Liberty 


149 


Prospective Views 


151 


Weariness of Mind 


152 


Sympathetic Affections 


155 


Indulgences in Old Age 


- 157 


Intellectual Enjoyment 


161 


Meditations on Immortality 


164 



f CONTENTS. 






page 


Nature of the Soul 


- 166 


Views of a future state 


167 


Constancy of the Martyrs - 170 


Increase of Knowledge - 


- 172 


Intellectual Beauty 


174 


Philosophy of Revelation 


175 


Re- union with Friends 


- 176 


Conclusion 


177 



Notes and Biographical Illustrations. 



Bishop Hough - . - 


181 


Bishop Gibson 


184 


Mr. Lyttelton - - 


186 


Evidences of Revelation 


189 


Duke of Marlborough 


190 


Lord Somers - 


192 


Sir Christopher Wren 


194 


Mr. Waller 


195 


Sir Isaac Newton 


197 


Clement the Twelfth 


198 


Marshall Villars 


— i 


Cardinal Fleury 


201 


Sir Robert Walpole 


203 


Archbishop Sancroft 


204 


Arrangement of Time 


207 


Queen Mary * - 


211 



CONTENTS. 


XI 


Death of a Friend 


page 
212 


Cornaro # - - 


— 


Sir John Floyer - 
Bible Society - 
Chillingworth - - 


218 
219 
221 


Fenelon 


225 


Methodism 


229 


Immortality 


231 


Studious Men 


233 


Cervantes 


234 


Hoarding 


239 


Charity School 
Occupation 
Parental Affection 


240 
241 
243 


Death of Maccail 


244 


Close of Life 


245 



PREFACE. 



Infancy conducts to youth, youth 
to mature life, and mature life to old 
age and immortality. In the two first 
of these periods, the preparation is 
regularly made for the succeeding state 
of action, and systems of tuition are 
adopted, to fit the traveller for the 
progressive stages of his journey. But 

B 



% PREFACE. 

the close of life is seldom made the 
subject of preparatory contemplation, 
For while to some it is an object of 
terror, by others it is treated with 
affected neglect ; and the greater part 
of mankind, immersed in the cares 
and concerns of the world, and in a 
contest for the toys and baubles, the 
crowns and sceptres, of the little scene 
in which they are acting a part, seem 
to have forgotten the great theatre to 
which they are ultimately destined. 

I am aware that in the hurry of busy 
life, amidst those professional and 
political efforts and exertions, which 
are generally useful to the community, 
and sometimes promote the welfare of 
the party himself, this preparation 
cannot always be properly attended to. 
In active life, however, while we are 
striving for independence and compe- 



PREFACE. 3 

tence, it is prudent at least, to make 
preparation for the time, when we may 
decline every other labour, except 
what concerns the interest of our 
friends, connections, and dependants, 
or the welfare of the community. 

The object, therefore, to which I 
point, is the securing of a middle 
period, during which our exertions 
may be so directed, as by duties per- 
formed and benefits conferred, to pro- 
duce consolatory reflections, against 
the approach of age and infirmity; 
so that we may view the grave, not as 
a scene of terror, but as the source of 
hope and expectation. In the course 
of directing my attention to this in- 
teresting subject, the intimacy with 
which your Lordship has favoured 
me, has afforded the most satisfactory 
evidence, that age is not necessarily 



4 PREFACE. 

attended either with infirmity of body 
or asperity of mind ; and that when 
they do occur, it is the effect of un- 
regulated appetites and passions, of 
a morbid constitution, or of natural 
sourness of temper. Indeed I have 
been much gratified to perceive, that 
the effects of age may be directly the 
reverse; and that the feelings and 
affections of the mind may become 
softer and milder, more kind and more 
benevolent, as the child of immor- 
tality approaches the commence- 
ment of his spiritual existence. 

In collecting and arranging the pro- 
duce of my reading and meditation 
on this subject, with the hope, which 
all writers cherish but many endea- 
vour to conceal, that the work may 
prove worthy of favourable accept- 
ance, I consider myself as a labourer 



PREFACE. O 

employed for my own benefit and 
that of others, on the road which leads 
down the decline of life, in rendering it 
more safe and easy ; not indeed work- 
ing entirely with my own materials, 
but in part with what have been left as 
common property, and for the general 
use of mankind ; happy, most happy, 
if my efforts may be of service to 
others ; and may contribute to their 
security and comfort, in their pilgrim- 
age to that country, which has been 
the object of desire to the wise and 
virtuous of all ages. 

When I inscribe my work to your 
Lordship, I am sensible that it is not 
in my power to give either advice or 
assistance. I do not presume even to 
offer hints or suggestions : but I am 
anxious not to forego the opportunity, 
of acknowledging the advantages which 



6 



PREFACE. 



I have received during the time that 
I have turned my attention to this 
subject; and to declare my convic- 
tion, that with well regulated passions 
and appetites, the inconveniences of 
age may be so far mitigated, as to 
leave little more of painful impression, 
than is necessary to prepare the tenant 
of this mortal body for his passage to 
eternity. As to myself it is no small 
advantage, that my meditation on this 
topic has not only had the passing 
effect of filling up hours not otherwise 
occupied, and of amusing and grati- 
fying me at the time ; but it has left in 
my mind permanent impressions, such 
as I am willing to hope, should my 
life be extended, will not only reconcile 
me to the privations and inconveni- 
ences of age, but may render that 
period of life in some degree accept- 
able. 



PREFACE. 7 

Of the materials which Cicero 
possessed, no one could have made a 
better use, than he has done in his 
Essay on Old Age. But the Gospel 
has since opened purer and more 
valuable sources of consolation, than 
are to be found in Polytheism and 
heathen Philosophy. The miserable 
uncertainty, or affected indifference, 
of some of their best and wisest men 
with regard to a future state, form a 
striking contrast to the sure and cer- 
tain hope, which reliance on the word 
of God, and faith in the merits of our 
Redeemer, will supply during age 
and infirmity, to the poorest and 
humblest Christian, — who 

Sinks to the grave by unperceiv'd decay 
While resignation gently slopes the way ; 
And all his prospects brightening to the last. 
His heaven commences ere this world be past. 



8 PREFACE. 

In adopting the form of a dialogue 
passing between eminent men of the 
same period, I have followed the 
example of Cicero. The venerable 
Bishop Hough is the Cato of my 
Drama; a prelate, who enjoyed an 
extraordinary degree of health of body 
and mind, to the advanced age of 
ninety -two ; and died, as he had lived, 
respected and beloved. He is well 
known for his manly resistance, as 
President of Magdalen College, to the 
tyranny of James the Second. His 
private letters, lately published by 
our friend Mr. Wilmot, present an 
amiable portrait of his mind; and 
have enabled me, in some degree, to 
mark his peculiar manners and mode 
of expression ; so as to oifer a view of 
his character in his ninetieth year, in 
the spring which succeeded the hard 
frost of 1739, the point of time which 



PREFACE. 9 

I have fixed for this Dialogue. The 
two other parties are his friend and 
correspondent, Bishop Gibson, then 
Bishop of London, and Mr. Lyttel- 
ton (afterwards Lord Lyttelton) his 
neighbour in the country. 

In fixing on the title of Spurinna, 
I have been influenced by a letter of 
Pliny's, the first in his third book ;— 
a letter which I never read without 
real gratification, increased by circum- 
stances of resemblance in habits, cha- 
racter, and period of life ; which if, 
from one peculiar cause, they do not 
strike your Lordship, will, I am con- 
fident, not escape the application of 
my other readers ; even though I 
should give them no larger an ex- 
tract than the following ;« — Illi post 
septimum et septu agentissimum 
Annum, aurium oculorumque 



10 PREFACE. 

vigor integer; Inde AGILE ET 
vividum Corpus, solaque ex Se- 
tstectute prudentia. 



11 



SPURINNA; 



THE COMFORTS OF OLD AGE. 



.Bishop Hough. My valued Brother 
of London, I have great pleasure in 
pressing your hand. In truth, I rejoice 
at the circumstance,which has brought 
your Lordship into Worcestershire ; 
may I hope, in good health. You have 
not, I trust, suffered from the severity 
of a Siberian winter, unparallelled in 
our mild climate. 



12 



Bishop Gibson. I wish, my dear 
Lord, I could give you as favourable 
an account of my health, as your kind- 
ness calls for. The intense cold of this 
season has, indeed, been too much for 
me ; and though your junior in years, 
I feel myself your senior in age and 
infirmity: but why name age and in- 
firmity to you, who have so little claim 
to commiseration on that score ? 

Bishop Hough. Blessed be God 
for his great mercies to me ! I have to- 
day entered into my ninetieth year, 
with less of infirmity than I could have 
presumed to hope, and certainly with 
a degree of calmness and tranquillity 
of mind, which is gradually increasing, 
as I daily approach the end of my 
pilgrimage. I think indeed that my 
life must now be but of short duration ; 
and I thank God, the thought gives me 
no uneasiness. 



13 



Bishop Gibson. If you, Bishop of 
Worcester, were uneasy on this sub- 
ject, what must be the feelings of others? 
But in good sooth, you are so hale and 
strong, that I think, after all, I shall 
give you the go-bye, and precede you. 

Bishop Hough. Nay, my friend! 
whatever may be said in favour of it, 
old age is a losing game. Months now 
count to me more than years did for- 
merly ; and your Lordship has above 
twenty years to pass, before you arrive 
at my number. You have a good na- 
tural constitution : but pardon me, if, 
as your friend, I complain of your 
having made too severe a trial of its 
strength. Your laborious publications 
on the errors of Popery, at the same 
time that they have been universally 
approved, have occasioned much anx- 
iety in the minds of your friends, who 
tremble for the effect of such continued 



14 



exertions. It is our duty to employ our 
talents for the good of others : and 
how can we better shew our gratitude 
for the comforts and advantages, which 
it has pleased God to bestow on us ? 
But it is also a duty to ascertain what 
our strength will bear. Excess of labour 
will exhaust the greatest intellectual 
powers, and the best natural consti- 
tution. 

Bishop Gibsoist. I admit that some- 
times I have attempted too much. — 
In this respect I have often had cause, 
my dear friend, to admire the serenity 
of mind, which you have exhibited in 
every period of life, and with which 
you now bear the inconveniences and 
infirmities of age ; so that, instead of 
hearing complaints, we see nothing but 
ease and cheerfulness. Let me be your 
pupil, Bishop of Worcester : trust me 
with your secret, and shew me how the 



15 



last act of life may be filled with pro- 
priety and satisfaction ; 



-fontes ut adire remotos, 



Atque haurire queam vitas prascepta beatae. 

But, in my pleasure at seeing you, I 
forgot to announce an unexpected 
visitor in Mr. Lyttelton. 

Bishop Hough. What! Is he come, 
after his campaign at St. Stephen's, to 
recruit his forces, and enjoy quiet with 
Sir Thomas, at Hagley ? 

Bishop Gibson. Even so ; and 
though not arrived at a period to put 
your precepts in practice— yet with 
his peculiar turn of mind, he will be 
highly gratified to learn, how it is that 
a heavy load of years, so much com- 
plained of by others, should sit so 
lightly upon you. But here he comes ; 
let him speak for himself. 



16 



Mr. Lyttelton. Health and hap- 
piness to both your Lordships. 

Bishop Hough. Accept my wish, 
dear Mr. Lyttelton, of multos etfelices. 
He who devotes his life to the service 
of the public, merits that his years 
should be many and happy. How is 
your worthy father, my friend and 
neighbour, Sir Thomas ? 

Mr. Lytteltoist. I am most thank- 
ful that I can give a favourable account 
of him. Though not wholly exempt 
from infirmity, yet in his retreat at 
Hagley, the blessings with which pro- 
vidence has favoured him, are re- 
ceived with a degree of gratitude, that 
enhances the enjoyment. 

Bishop Hough. You have indeed 
a garden of Eden, my young friend, 
prepared for you at Hagley; and I 



17 

hope the report is true, that you are 
occupied in the delightful task of in- 
viting an Eve to enjoy and adorn it. 
Whoever be the fair unknown, I will 
trust in your taste, that the virtues of 
the heart, and endowments of the mind 
will not be forgotten. 

Mr. Lytteltojst. Whether your 
Lordship's intelligence be correct or 
no, time will shew.— But what I heard 
as I entered, gave me hopes of in- 
struction from you as to the comforts 
of age, and the means which I must 
employ to secure those comforts, should 
my life be extended. Instead therefore 
of referring to the passing concerns of 
youth, allow me to add my request to 
the Bishop of London's, that you will 
favour us with the secret of attaining 
those comforts in advanced life, which 
you seem so abundantly to enjoy. 



18 



Bishop Hough. One of its greatest 
comforts, is to regard with sympathy 
and satisfaction the happiness of others, 
and to look back with complacency 
on the pleasures of youth. Of all tem- 
poral and worldly enjoyments, Mr. 
Lyttelton, the marriage union with a 
congenial mind, animating a pleasing 
frame, is by far the greatest. To me it 
is always a gratification to sympathize 
with the young in their enjoyments. I 
become more *a participator in their 
youthful feelings, than my aged and 
cold blood could have promised : and 
I profess to you, my young friend, that 
when the day arrives of your union 
with the fair object of your choice, I 
shall almost feel myself a bridegroom ; 
retracing in my recollection that happy 
hour, which united my dearest friend 
to me. The separation indeed, at the 
time, was bitter ; but that bitterness is 
now passed ; a fond regret remains, 



19 

mingled with more and more pleasing 
sensations, and acquiring increased 
softness and tenderness, as I hourly 
approach nearer and nearer to the 
period of our re-union. I now humbly 
confide in her being soon restored to 
me, in a state of eternal and unchang- 
ing happiness, promised by the re- 
vealed word of God, to those who 
have faithfully served him in their day 
and generation. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Happy they, who 
can thus direct their eyes to the grave ! 
— That I am looking to such an union, 
as your Lordship so feelingly describes, 
I am ready to admit ; and, at the same 
time, I cannot deny that I once held 
heretical opinions on the subject. It 
appeared to me, that so much was re- 
quired, — so intimate a blending of 
hearts and wishes, — such unlimited 
affection and unbounded confidence,— 



20 

that the married state must be the ex- 
treme, either of happiness, or misery. 

Bishop Hough. In a world of trial 
like this, calculated to prepare us for 
a world where bliss is complete and 
permanent, it is wrong to entertain 
hopes of perfect happiness, in any con- 
dition of life. Such hopes can only 
lead to disappointment and vexation. 
Still less should we be terrified by ap- 
prehensions of extreme misery. In a 
transitory state like the present, there 
will be perpetual occurrences to di- 
minish the one, and to mitigate the 
other ; thus producing in the moral, as 
in the natural world, an equality of 
temperature.— The wind is tempered 
by the word that created it. — When 
parties fitted for each other by habits 
and studies, by modes of thinking, by 
system of occupation, by temper, dis- 
position, and above all by moral and 



21 



religious feelings, — when such parties 
unite in wedlock, — let them co-operate 
with hand and heart in the duties and 
charities of life,— -and they will find 
the greatest degree of happiness which 
this probationary world can afford, and 
the best preparation for that kingdom, 
the joys and pleasures of which are 
perfect and eternal. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Let me then 
humbly hope, that an early union with 
a pure, untainted mind, may be the 
means of conducting me happily and 
surely to those blissful regions. And 
on this subject, my Lord Bishop, I 
will confess myself to you as my Dio- 
cesan, in presence of the Bishop of 
London. In the early part of my life, 
—and I look back with surprise and 
regret — I was more than shaken with 
regard to the truths of Revelation. The 
levity of some of my fellow collegians, 



22 



the cavils and objections of the new 
sect of Freethinkers, and the total want 
of all spiritual advice, had unsettled 
my mind at the university. These, 
however, would have had no permanent 
effects on me, but for the answers 
which were given to those cavils and 
objections ; — answers which, though 
offered with confidence, appeared to 
me to be perfectly weak and impo- 
tent : I therefore presumed them to be 
unanswerable. 

Bishop Gibson. Christianity has 
suffered as much by weak and inju- 
dicious advocates, as by the open at- 
tacks of infidelity. When I see a man 
presuming hastily to answer objections, 
the force and extent of which he has 
never fully considered, I am almost 
inclined to wish he had taken the other 
side, and to cry out, Adversario da 
istum Patronum. Such men, however 



23 

sincere and well-intentioned , gene- 
rally injure the cause they propose to 
support. 

Mr. Lyttelton. When I went on 
my travels, what I saw and heard of 
Christianity in many parts of Europe, 
left me, as I fear it has done many 
other young travellers, in a state of 
little better than rank infidelity. Since 
my return to England, however, I 
have held it a duty to study the Scrip- 
tures with care and attention ; and on 
a subject of such infinite importance, 
seriously to weigh the evidence by 
which their authenticity is supported ; 
and I am indeed most thankful, that 
the mists which had obscured my un- 
derstanding are now dissipated ; and 
that I enjoy the glorious light of the 
gospel, as the director of my path 
through this probationary state. 



24 



Bishop Gibson. The revealed 
word of God will afford not only the 
best, but the only authentic and satis- 
factory information, to direct and in- 
form the mind in this respect. For 
when we consider what may be done 
by perfect wisdom and goodness, 
operating with absolute power, over 
infinity of space, the mind is lost in the 
contemplation, and necessarily recurs 
to revelation, as the only source of 
knowledge on a subject, so passing the 
limited faculties of man. At the same 
time, tne variety of the evidence which 
may be adduced in support of Revela- 
tion, affords a very striking confirma- 
tion of its truth; — "the proofs from 
prophecy — from miracles — from the 
character of Christ — from that of his 
Apostles — from the nature of the doc- 
trines of Christianity, whether con- 
sidered each in itself, or in their 
mutual relation to each other — from 



25 



other species of internal evidence, 
afforded in more abundance in pro- 
portion as the sacred records have been 
scrutinized with greater care- — and 
from the accounts of contemporary 
writers — are such, that it seems to be 
morally impossible, that so many dif- 
ferent kinds of proof, and all so strong, 
should have lent their concurrent aid, 
and united their joint force, in the 
establishment of falsehood/' 

Mr. Lyttelton. There is no 
accounting for the promulgation and 
early prevalence of Christianity, on any 
other supposition than that of its 
Truth. How otherwise can we explain 
the instantaneous conversion of many 
thousands of all ranks, opinions, and 
countries ? How can we otherwise, 
among many examples, account for 
the conversion of St. Paul; a fact 
established on the clearest and most 



26 



decisive evidence, and sufficient in 
itself to convince any fair and candid 
mind, of the truth of Christianity ? I 
have weighed the circumstances of that 
case with minute attention ; and if I 
could but satisfy myself that discus- 
sions of this kind came within the 
scope of a Layman, I might, at some 
future period, venture to offer to the 
public the result of my inquires on that 
subject : but I should be sorry to be 
thought improperly to interfere with 
the concerns of a profession, to which 
I have not the honor to belong. 

Bishop Hough. Religion, my 
young friend, is the business of every 
one. Its advancement and decline in 
a country, are so intimately connected 
with national prosperity and with the 
temporal interests of society, that it 
is quite as much the concern of the 
Statesman, as of the Ecclesiastic. 



27 



Bishop Gibson. Allow me further 
to observe, Mr. Lyttelton, that what 
a Layman writes on the subject of 
Religion, will be perused with more 
candour, and be more exempt from 
the imputation of interested motives or 
professional prejudices. — But, Bishop 
of Worcester, I must remind you of 
our request, that you would impart to 
us your antidote to the aches and 
infirmities of age. 

Bishop Hough. I never peruse 
the account of the journey of the 
Israelites through the Wilderness, as 
given by Moses in the Pentateuch or 
abridged by David in the lxxviii. 
Psalm, without considering it as a type 
of the Christian's passage through this 
probationary state. The world is the 
wilderness, through which we are tra- 
velling ; and if we are asked what 
is our country, we may point with 



28 



Anaxagoras, to Heaven. — like the 
children of Israel we have difficulties 
and dangers to encounter, but we have 
the Light of Revelation to direct our 
path, and to guide us b}^ night and by 
day. We also have the living waters, 
are nourished with angels food, and 
fed with the bread of heaven. It there- 
fore ill becomes us, as we approach the 
promised land, to murmur and be 
dispirited, because we are weaker and 
more wearied. With the blessed Je- 
rusalem in view, approaching the 
holy rest of God, we need desire no 
more strength, than will carry us to 
our journey's end. Viewing this world 
in its true light, as a passage to a 
better, we shall find all the periods of 
life under the same directing provi- 
dence ; and we may be assured that 
our Creator has not left the last 
stage of our corporeal existence im- 
perfect ; but has apportioned to each 



29 



its duties and enjoyments. — When 
every other part of the drama of life 
has been so well provided for, it can 
hardly be supposed that the last act 
should have been entirely neglected. 
Every period of our existence has its 
gratifications, as every season of the 
year produces its peculiar enjoyments. 
The bloom of spring, the gleam of 
summer, and the rich produce of 
autumn may be passed and gone ; but 
to those who have made due prepara- 
tion, the cheerful fireside and the social 
comforts of winter will not be less ac- 
ceptable. When, however, I say this, 
I except those cases, where individuals 
have so applied the former part of life, 
as to leave the latter blank and com- 
fortless : I only mean to assert, that if 
our youth be so employed as not to 
embitter the decline of life, we shall 
find enjoyments allotted to every pe- 
riod of our existence. 



30 

Mr. Lyttelton. Let me then re- 
quest you to state the nature of those 
enjoyments, and the means of attaining 
them. 

Bishop Hough. I shall most wil- 
lingly comply with your request. But 
in observing on the comforts provided 
for the close of life, you must not ex- 
pect novelty. Much of what I shall 
have to say is derived from books, some 
part from conversation, other part from 
reflection; and the whole is so blended 
and amalgamated in my mind, that 
it will be hardly practicable to dis- 
tinguish what I have borrowed, from 
my own property. Let therefore one 
acknowledgment serve for all. — And 
again, remember that while one of the 
pleasures of age is to be of use to 
others, that of hearing oneself chatter 
is another : I shall therefore strive to 
set a watch upon my tongue. Homer, 



31 



you recollect, compares the prattle of 
Priam's aged counsellors, to the un- 
ceasing chirping of grasshoppers. — 
But to proceed :— they who possess no 
resources within themselves, will find 
weariness and vexation in every period 
of life; for while the current of animal 
spirits is only to be kept up by the 
external stimulants of pleasure, vanity, 
pride, cupidity, and ambition, a degree 
of languor and listlesness must at times 
inevitably take place ; and particularly 
in old age, when the sensual appetite 
being diminished, the power of looking 
inwards for intellectual pleasure, be- 
comes more and more essential to the 
well-being of the rational creature. 
The misfortune is, that if the mind be 
not adequately supplied with proper 
and rational objects, the seeds of envy, 
petulance, malice, sensuality, avarice, 
and revenge, will take root in the va- 
cant space, and produce their harvest 



32 



in the autumn of life. When, there- 
fore, I am speaking of the enjoyments 
of the aged, I presume that the prior 
life has been such as to merit enjoy- 
ment. The best and surest guard 
against the inconveniences of age, is to 
study through life the precepts of the 
Gospel, and to perform the duties it 
prescribes. The good seed thus sown 
in the spring of life, will be abun- 
dantly productive of consolation, in 
every subsequent period : for it is not 
merely at the dying hour, but during 
every other portion of existence, and 
particularly in old age, that the me- 
mory of useful and benevolent exer- 
tions affords a source of gratification. 
On the contrary, what degree of com- 
fort can an old man reasonably ex- 
pect, who, at the close of this brief 
and chequered life, cannot console 
himself with the memory of any one 
duty fulfilled, either to God or man ? 



33 

— who has applied his talents and pos- 
sessions to no one good or useful pur- 
pose; but has directed their concen- 
trated power to the mean, solitary, and 
unworthy object of self-gratification ? — 
I speak not of the comforts of such 
an old age. They who have provided 
no resources of intellect, and no traces 
of beneficence to individuals, or of ser- 
vices to the community, have no claim 
to comfort at the close of life. The 
moral government of the Supreme 
Being would (if I may presume to use 
the expression) be impeached, if they 
who had attempted to live only to them- 
selves, — were capable of calm and un- 
qualified enjoyment in old age. 

Bishop Gibson. I think, Bishop 
of Worcester, I can read in Mr. Lyt- 
telton's countenance, that he feels very 
fully the force of your observations. 
Let us therefore request that, before 
D 



34 

you notice the positive comforts of age, 
you will advert to those inconveniences 
of advanced life, which are not the 
effects of misconduct, but the necessary 
concomitants of length of years. 

Bishop Hough. In these I presume 
then that you will not include poverty, 
sickness, casualties, and those things 
which are common to every period of 
life. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Certainly not; 
at least no further than they are aggra- 
vated by age. 

Bishop Gibson. And yet against 
that aggravation should be opposed 
this circumstance; that the aged, at 
least those who have been provident, 
are generally more protected against 
want, and less liable to casualties, than 
the young. 



35 



Bishop Hough. Perhaps we may 
fairly set the one against the other. I 
shall therefore venture to exclude them 
from the account ; and adopting the 
Ciceronian arrangement, class the in- 
conveniences of age under the four 
following heads : — 1st. that it unfits for 
public life ; — 2nd. is attended by in- 
firmity of body ; — 3rd. diminishes the 
power of animal enjoyment : — and 4th. 
is a state of anxiety on account of the 
approach of death. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Is not the failure 
of memory to be included under the 
inconveniences of age ? 

Bishop Hough. Certainly. — But I 
consider it, wherever it exists, whether 
in age or youth, as an infirmity which 
may unfit for public life; protesting 
however that, with exception of cases 
where the constitution has been 



36 

originally defective or the memory im- 
paired by non-exercise, the recollection 
of the aged is in general detailed and 
minute. The fact indeed has been often 
noticed, that the oldest witnesses are 
more clear and distinct in their testi- 
mony, than the younger. — But to con- 
sider the first objection of unfitness for 
public life. There is no doubt but that 
the aged are less fit for enterprises, 
which require bodily activity and 
strength : but they are not therefore 
disqualified for the conduct of busi- 
ness, or less fit for counsel, advice, or 
direction. And I must observe that 
in the Government of Empires, it is 
knowledge and experience, not youth 
and temerity, that are essential. The 
advantages of young counsellors have 
been proverbial, ever since the revolu- 
tion which followed the death of Solo- 
mon. Need I, Mr. Lyttelton, to one 
of your scale of intellect, observe that 



37 

with civilised man, it is counsel not force, 
mind not body, that must govern. Aga- 
memnon in his speech to the aged 
Nestor, did not wish for the athletic 
strength of youth, but for the expe- 
rienced wisdom of age, to conquer 
Troy ; as Mr. Pope has well translated 
it: 

Oh would the Gods, in love to Greece, decree 
But ten such sages as they grant in thee ! 
Such wisdom soon should Priam's force destroy, 
And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy. 

It was not by corporeal but by intel- 
lectual vigour, that our Royal Master, 
William, and our English Hero, 
Marlborough, performed those great 
achievements, for the preservation of 
our civil and religious liberties, and 
for the salvation of Europe. It was not 
muscular strength, but mental reflection 
working by experience, that instructed 
the former to baffle the intrigues of 
Lewis, aiming at universal monarchy ; 



38 

and when in January 1704 the Em- 
peror of Germany, alarmed at the 
progress of the French arms, and at 
the defection of the Duke of Bavaria, 
implored the aid and protection of the 
Queen and people of England to save 
the Roman empire from impending 
ruin, it was acuteness and sagacity of 
mind, that enabled Marlborough to 
compel the surrender of the entire 
French army at Blenheim, and in 
one day to annihilate the tyrannic and 
destructive power of France. — iVmong 
those who congratulated our deliverer 
upon his welcome arrival in 1688, one 
of the gayest and most lively courtiers 
that I saw in the whole party, was 
Serjeant Matnard, then about my 
present age. I observed the kindness 
with which the Prince complimented 
him on his period of life (he was then 
ninety), and on his having out-lived 
all the lawyers of his time : "I might 



39 

(replied the old man) have out-lived 
the law too, if your Highness had not 
arrived/' — His spirit was just the same, 
as when some years before, he so ably 
opposed the bill for constructive trea- 
son ; and at the advanced age of ninety, 
he was not deemed unfit to be placed 
at the head of the High Court of 
Chancery, in times extremely critical 
and difficult ; nor was he found un- 
equal to the pressure of business which 
then took place.- — Neither did our ex- 
cellent friend Lord Somers shew less 
vigour in projecting the union in 1708, 
than he displayed twenty years before 
in the establishment and recognition 
of the title of their Majesties, and in 
the able support which he gave to the 
act of convention : or even in a latter 
period, at the close of the rebellion in 
1715, when under the pressure of great 
bodily infirmity, but retaining his own 
native vigour of mind, he reprobated 



40 

those severe measures against the rebel 
Lords, which have had the effect of 
converting Tories into Jacobites ; and 
exclaimed to the Minister, u Do you 
" then mean to revive the proscriptions 
" of Marius and Sylla, and to drive 
" the Tories into the arms of the Pre- 
" tender, and dye the royal ermine 
" with blood ? " — To notice other ex- 
amples, your predecessor, Bishop of 
London, (I mean Dr. Robinson) lived 
to his ninety-third year, and always 
preserved a considerable share of 
health; and Sir Christopher Wren 
was in his eightieth year w T hen he 
finished your cathedral of Saint Paul's. 
He died at the age of ninety-one, but 
not till he had completed other great 
works. Mr. Waller, at the age of 
eighty-two, is said to have lost none of 
his intellectual powers : and the im- 
mortal Newton, the prodigy of our 
age, who began his philosophical career 



41 

before one-and-twenty, and had con- 
tinued it with incessant labour for 
more than half a century, was in his 
eighty -third year very busy in improv- 
ing his chronology ; and afterwards, 
averse as he had always been to contest 
and dispute, yet when he thought the 
cause of truth and the interests of 
science required it, he entered the lists 
of controversy, and continued the lite- 
rary war to his death, with all the 
warmth and enthusiasm of a young 
disputant. 

Bishop Gibson. But observe, bro- 
ther, that Sir Isaac Newton's was the 
solitary occupation of mere intellect. 
It did not require those resources and 
that peculiar firmness of mind, which 
the concerns of public business demand, 
and which old age does not in general 
possess. 



42 



Bishop Hough. Take then the 
example of Corsini, the present Pope, 
Clement the Twelfth. He was 
near four-score when he succeeded to 
the Papal Chair: he has now held it 
for ten years, and has not lost any of 
that popularity, which he at first 
acquired, by abolishing several im- 
provident taxes, and putting an end to 
the system of oppression, that Cardinal 
Coscia had established under his pre- 
decessor. — Or if activity in the field 
be more decisive, what do you say to 
Marshall Villars ? who, after hav- 
ing quitted his military career for 
many years, has lately taken the com- 
mand of the army in Italy, at the age 
of four-score ; and in a short, active, 
and glorious campaign, has driven the 
imperial army out of the Milanese 
territory, and rescued that country 
from an unexampled severity of op- 
pression. I have a respect for a good 



43 

pun; and I love the pleasantness of 
this old man, who at the siege of 
Milan, being asked his age, could 
answer, " Dans peu de Jours, j'aurois 

Mil-an/' 

Mr. Lyttelton. You defend 
your ground so well, my Lord Bishop, 
that there is a pleasure in seeing you 
attacked. Allow me then to ask, 
whether in public affairs, the art of 
persuading and convincing others is 
not essentia] ? and whether the powers 
of a public speaker are not enfeebled 
by age ? 

Bishop Hough. The voice, Mr. 
Lyttelton, I admit, does not retain its 
stentorian powers : but then it acquires 
a sweetness and mellowness, quite as 
fitted to engage the attention and con- 
vince the understanding, as the more 
boisterous vociferation of youth. Such 



44 

was the eloquence of Nestor, whose 
words, Homer tells us, flowed from 
his mouth like honey ; and such the 
tones, with which Lord Somers (many 
years after he had resigned the seals 
and quitted public life) addressed the 
House of Commons in answer to his 
malignant accusers, and at once con- 
founded and silenced them. 

Bishop Gibson. And yet I cannot 
but think, that the trial which you 
were put to early in life, called for 
nerves and strength, to oppose the 
threats and artifices of James's Com- 
missioners. It required, my dear Bi- 
shop, the vigour of youth, to give your 
answer; — " My Lords, I submit as 
" far as is consistent with the laws of 
" the land and the statutes of the col- 
" lege, and no further;" or what you 
added, " I do hereby protest 
" against all your proceedings, 



45 

" and against all you have done in 
" prejudice of me and my right, as 
" illegal, unjust, and null ; and there- 
" fore I appeal to my Sovereign 
" Lord the King, in his Courts of 
" Justice/' 

Bishop Hough. And why, Bro- 
ther, should I be more timid and more 
time-serving at my present age, than 
at thirty-six ? Is disinterested contempt 
of life and fortune less practicable at 
the age of ninety, than at an earlier 
period? or are those who find them- 
selves approaching the end of their 
mortal pilgrimage, more likely to sa- 
crifice liberty and truth to the exten- 
sion of a precarious existence, and for 
the sake of life to surrender all which 
can give to life any real value ? How 
different were the feelings of Solon ! 
who when he opposed with vigour, 
though without success, the tyranny 



46 

of Pisistratus, and was asked what 
had inspired him with such undaunted 
courage, replied, " my old age/' 
You and I, Bishop of London, would, 
I trust, at no period, be disposed to 
make so precious a sacrifice, for the 
prolongation of life : and, however 
infirm my mortal frame may now be, 
I feel, at the present moment, as fitted 
for the trial I then underwent before 
the Bishop of Chester and the two 
Judges, and as ready to meet the 
danger and abide the event, as at any 
preceding period of my life. 

Mr. Lytteltoist. Patriotic feelings 
like these, my dear Lord, are then 
more likely to increase than diminish 
in advanced life ? 

Bishop Hough. So, indeed I 
should conceive. — But I have still 
more proof that old age is not incapa- 



47 



citated for public life. If the peace 
and prosperity of a country afford 
evidence of the talents of a minister, 
who ever deserved the name of a great 
Statesman, better than the present 
Premier of France, in his 88th year ? 
— I mean the amiable, the honest, and 
the pacific Fleuey : yet the Cardinal 
was near seventy-four, when he under- 
took the administration of the kingdom 
of France ; which, in the course of little 
more than fourteen years, he has by 
peaceful measures in a great degree 
restored, exhausted as it was by the 
profusion and ambition of the late 
monarch and his ministers. And, my 
dear Mr. Lyttelton, you must pardon 
me when I observe, that your political 
opponent, Sir Robert Walpole, 
has very great merit with me in that 
respect. To his co-operation with the 
mild and equitable minister of France, 
we are indebted for a greater extension 



48 

of peace, than we have enjoyed for a 
long time. Our late monarch, indeed, 
was not exempt, nor, I fear, is our 
present sovereign, from the infectious 
desire of military glory. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I must remind 
you then, my Lord, of your warm 
panegyric on King William, and the 
Duke of Marlborough ; and ask whe- 
ther there was no itch, no infectious 
desire of military glory in them . 

Bishop Hough. There might have 
been. God only knows the heart of 
man. — But there was a cause. The 
clouds of bigotry and despotism 
threatened misery and havock to our 
quarter of the globe : and those heroes 
were the instruments to which, under 
an over -ruling providence, Europe is 
chiefly indebted for the civil and reli- 
gious liberty which it now enjoys. We 



49 



have (and I grieve to hear it) just 
declared war against Spain, and are 
rejoicing in the capture of Porto Bello ; 
prepared by success for an attempt on 
Carthagena, or for something which 
may end in loss and disgrace. When 
I hear a proposal for declaring war, I 
figure to myself a suspension of com- 
merce, a decay of manufactures, a 
scarcity of food, an increase of taxes, a 
state of irritation, uncertainty and dis- 
content; and I am persuaded, that if 
warlike sovereigns would frequently 
visit their hospitals, crowded with the 
dying and disabled, and contemplate 
the depopulation and distress which 
are the effects of their itch for glory, 
that fatal disease would be less preva- 
lent and destructive, 

Mr. Lyttelton. Do you then, 
my Lord Bishop, approve of the cor- 
rupt means, by which the present 



50 



minister has so long preserved his 



power ? 



Bishop Hough. I say not that. 
But impressed as I have been with all 
you have so ably stated in the House, 
still I acknowledge his merits as the 
preserver of peace : they perpe- 
tually recur to my mind, and create 
an interest in his favour. — Let me 
however return to my subject.— The 
period in which we have lived, has 
supplied many valuable lessons on the 
subject of old age. Hardly any one 
has left more impression on my mind, 
than a visit which I paid in 1693, to 
our late metropolitan Dr. Sancroft, 
at Fresingfield in Suffolk ; a little farm 
where he was born, and which had 
been above three hundred years in his 
family. He was then approaching to 
four-score; I found him working in 
his garden, and taking advantage of a 



51 



shower of rain which had fallen, to 
transplant some lettuces. I was struck 
with the profusion of his vegetables, 
the beauty and luxuriance of his fruit- 
trees, and the richness and fragrance 
of his flowers, and noticed the taste 
with which he had directed every 
thing. " You must not compliment 
" too hastily (says he) on the directions 
" which I have given. Almost all you 
" see, is the work of my own hands. 
" My old woman does the weeding ; 
" and John mows my turf, and digs 
" for me : but all the nicer work,— 
" the sowing, grafting, budding, trans- 
" planting, and the like, I trust to no 
u other hand but my own,— so long at 
" least as my health will allow me to 
" enjoy so pleasing an occupation. 
" And in good sooth," added he, " the 
" fruits here taste more sweet, and the 
" flowers have a richer perfume, than 
" they had at Lambeth/' — I looked 



52 



up to our deprived metropolitan with 
more respect, and thought his garden- 
ing dress shed more splendour over 
him, than ever his robes and lawn 
sleeves could have done, when he was 
the first subject in this great kingdom. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Was it not per- 
verse, however, after boldly petitioning 
James against the dispensing power, 
and signing the declaration to William, 
to refuse the oaths to his new Sove- 
reign, and yet not assign any reason 
for his conduct ? 

Bishop Hough, Whenever I be- 
hold disinterested sincerity, I bow to it 
with reverence, however opinions may 
differ. Strict and severe as to himself, 
he was kind and tender to others ; the 
friend of the conscientious dissenter, 
disposed to concede to the scruples of 
others, he could not induce his mind 



53 



to offer a new oath of allegiance, whilst 
his liege sovereign was still living : not 
however uncharitable to those, who 
had not the same scruples ; as appears 
by what he said, during his last ill- 
ness, to one of his chaplains who had 
conformed. " You and I have gone 
" different ways in these late affairs; 
" but I trust Heaven's gates are wide 
" enough to receive us both. What I 
" have done, I have done in the inte- 
" grity of my heart ;— indeed in the 
" great integrity of my heart," 

Bishop Gibson. I think, Brother, 
that Mr. Lyttelton, even if he cannot 
hold Mr. Waller's opinion that age 
improves the understanding, will at 
least allow, that it does not absolutely 
disqualify for public business. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I do most rea- 
dily. But now, my Lord Bishop, for 



54 

your second objection, that age is 
attended with infirmity of body ; is not 
that in some degree a part of your 
first? 

Bishop Hough. It seems to me to 
deserve to be considered separately. — - 
In estimating the infirmity peculiar to 
age, we should remember that fallen 
man is subject to aches and pains, to 
sickness and disease, in every period 
of his probationary state ; and we must 
not place to the separate account of 
old age, what is common to every period 
of life. Again, there are some consti- 
tutions which are naturally infirm ; 
and moreover, in a plurality of in- 
stances, those who suffer much in old 
age, are indebted for their sufferings 
to the habitual stimulus of vinous or 
ardent spirits, or to some improper in- 
dulgence. As to myself, the lesson of 
temperance, which our g~eat dramatic 



55 



poet has put in the mouth of the faithful 
Adam, has not been lost on me ; 

For in my youth, I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors to my blood : 
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 
Frosty, but kindly. 

You will, I am sure, admit that de- 
duction should be made, not only for 
weakly habits of body, for intemper- 
ance, and for neglect and inattention 
to bodily health, but also for the in- 
dulgence of PASSIONS AND ANXIE- 
TIES, as far as the bodily health may 
be thereby affected. This will confine 
the infirmities of age within a much 
smaller circle, than is commonly esti- 
mated ; leaving little more than what 
is necessary to wean us from a world, 
which, with all our complainings, we 
are apt to love too well ; and to pre- 
pare for the close of life, in the same 
manner as the weariness, which we feel 



56 

at the end of a cheerful and active 
day, fits us for quiet and calm repose. 

Bishop Gibson. You do not how- 
ever, my dear friend, mean to say that 
age has no infirmity, except what it 
derives from collateral circumstances ? 

Bishop Hough. I allow it to be 
perfectly true, that age lessens the 
amount of bodily force. But if the 
quantum of happiness depended on the 
positive degree of strength, we should 
rather lament that we have not been 
endowed with the animal powers of 
the bull or the elephant ; and the 
strongest of the brute creation would 
be then more happy and enviable, than 
the best and wisest of rational beings. 
I admit, my dear Mr. Lyttelton, that 
my strength is inferior to yours ; but 
your strength is inferior to that of 
some others ; and greatly inferior to 



57 



what is possessed by those athletic 
boxers, whose savage combats disgrace 
the present age. No one, however, 
except those who patronize them, 
would prefer the possession of their 
trained and brutal strength, to the 
endowments of your cultivated and 
enlightened mind. — Even at my ex- 
tended age, though my strength and 
activity are abated, yet with my bowl- 
ing green and other occupations, I 
have so kept myself in training, that 
they are not entirely gone. — In 
Pliny's letters, there is an interesting 
account of his friend Spurijstna, and 
of the methods he took to preserve his 
activity ; arranging his life by that un- 
interrupted regularity, which seems to 
be peculiarly fitted to old age. Though 
he was only a boy to me, being then 
in his seventy-eighth year, I have pro- 
fited by his example.— The first part 
of his morning (Pliny tells us) he 



58 



devoted to study. At eight o'clock he 
dressed, and walked about three miles 
for contemplation and exercise. Con- 
versation and reading, with a little in- 
dulgence of repose, tilled up his time 
till noon ; when he took the air in his 
chariot, with his lady or some friend, 
and used a little more walking exercise. 
Between two and three he went to the 
bath ; after which he played some 
time at tennis, and then reposed while 
a favourite author was read to him, 
till at six o'clock he sat down to an 
elegant repast, enlivened by the recital 
of a dramatic entertainment, and ex- 
tended by mirth and good humour to 
a late hour. 

Mr. Lyttelton. These, my Lord, 
are Roman manners ; but with a little 
modification, the example might be 
fitted to English habits and climate. 



59 

Bishop Gibson. There are, how- 
ever, other privations, not indeed ex- 
clusively confined to old age, yet much 
more frequent in advanced life; such, 
for example, as the loss of sight, which 
Milton has so feelingly and patheti- 
cally described. 

Bishop Hough. And yet, my dear 
friend, is it not more than probable, 
that we are indebted to it for much of 
the beauty, melody, and variety of his 
immortal work, the Paradise Lost? 
in which, rejecting the delusions of 
vision, he has referred the examination 
of his numbers to his ear. How far 
these privations are, in most cases, 
compensated by a merciful Providence, 
we have, in some instances, opportu- 
nities of judging. Milton himself seems 
to have had experience of this mercy, 
when he added to his poetical com- 
plaint those beautiful lines : 



60 



-Yet not the more 



Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt, 
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 

Smit with the love of sacred song. 

Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
Harmonious numbers. 

Mr. Lyttelton. The name of 
Milton naturally leads the mind to the 
Father of Epic Poetry. Does it not 
appear probable, my good Lord, that 
to this circumstance of blindness, we 
are indebted for the rich and luxuriant 
flow of the lines of Homer, surpassing 
not only every thing of his own period, 
but of every other age ? If the Grecian 
Poet had been accustomed to scan, 
and measure and examine his verses 
by his eye, as the predominant sense, 
should we have inherited those poetical 
examples, which the world has ever 
since imitated, but will never equal. I 
am, however, aware that there was 



61 

another circumstance, which gave 
Homer, in common with the ancients, 
a great advantage over modern Poe- 
tasters : I mean the practice of fre- 
quently repeating their compositions 
in public, and thereby correcting and 
refining them to the utmost practicable 
extent. The trial of the effect on the 
public ear, the detection of flatness or 
hardness in the composition, and the 
improvement of the flow of the numbers 
and the harmony of the style by re- 
peated and public examination, will 
account for the high degree of polish 
and perfection, to which some of their 
works attained. Hardly any one who 
has not made the trial, can appreciate 
the disadvantages of writing Poetry in 
the closet, modulating it by the eye. It 
is true, the ear is also referred to : but 
the discriminating faculty has already 
been pre-occupied by the sight ; which 
of all the senses, as Horace justly 



62 



observes, makes the most powerful im- 
pression on the mind. 

Bishop Hough. I proceed now to 
consider the third inconvenience of 
age, the diminution of animal enjoyment. 
—Upon this I have to observe, that 
different pleasures are adapted to dif- 
ferent periods of life ; so that as one 
desire diminishes, another increases. 
We do not therefore lose, but only 
vary the objects of attachment; ex- 
changing the turbulent and tyrannic 
passions of youth, for the milder and 
more sedate affections of age. If in- 
crease of years be a check to intem- 
perance, it is also a preservative against 
its unhappy effects. It does not exclude 
conviviality ; but leaves us the delight 
of social intercourse, while it improves 
the pleasures of conversation, and di- 
minishes the cravings of appetite. 
Indeed there is hardly any thing so 



63 



dangerous, as an inordinate love of 
pleasure ; nor any crime, public or 
private, which men abandoned to the 
lawless and unbridled indulgence of 
appetite, will not commit. . — When 
those, who place their enjoyments 
merely in the gratification of the senses, 
describe one of their dinner parties, 
their account of it refers to the turtle, 
venison, and burgundy, which made 
the entirety of the entertainment : but 
if three or four intellectual persons by. 
chance mix with the society, the nar- 
rative is changed ; and the dullest eater 
and drinker of them all will cry out, — 
" what an agreeable party ! what wit, 
" what pleasantry, what information I" 
— Who that has noticed this, will 
question the superiority of intellectual 
over sensual pleasure, or pity us old 
men, who can enjoy all this, the most 
desirable part of a social entertainment, 
better than at five-and twenty ? 



64 

Bishop Gibsoist. Do you then 
mean to infer, Brother, that the whole 
of our course through life is a progress 
from sensual to intellectual enjoyment? 

Bishop Hough. I do. — The new- 
born infant is a mere sensualist. Soft- 
ness to the touch, sweetness to the taste, 
fragrance to the smell, brilliancy to the 
eye, and pleasing sounds to delight 
the ear, constitute the sum and sub- 
stance of his existence. He is composed 
entirely of sensual appetites; and 
when they are satiated, sinks into 
repose. But every ray of intellectual 
light that is admitted into the mind, by 
instruction, experience, example, and 
by the kindness of friends, tends to 
convert the animal into a rational being ; 
supplying mental pleasures in the 
place of those which are merely cor- 
poreal, and the direction of reason 
for that of instinct. — As the heir of 



65 



immortality advances in the period of 
existence, a series of mixt enjoyment 
follows in succession, until what is 
called the entrance of life ; when the 
sexual attraction, the desire of pre- 
eminence, and the dreams of ambi- 
tion, supply new objects; which, though 
not purely intellectual, are not so 
grossly sensual as those which occupy 
the very vestibule of existence. As 
life passes on, there is an increasing 
prevalence of intellect ; and the soul 
is gradually prepared for the glory, 
to which it is destined, To complain, 
therefore, of the diminution of sensual 
gratifications as our intellectual enjoy- 
ments increase, seems to me neither just 
nor reasonable. 

Mr. Lyttelto^. In your account 
of the progress of intellect, your Lord- 
ship has only slightly alluded to the 
sexual Passion ; but does it not afford 
F 



66 

an apt exemplification of the progress 
of the mind, and of its power to convert 
an appetite of a sensual nature into an 
intellectual pleasure ? 

Bishop Hough. Where the Powers 
of the Mind and the intellectual habits 
have been duly cultivated, connubial 
love will gradually refine and become 
intellectual ; and be more and more 
assimilated to that spiritual enjoyment, 
which will form a portion of the felicity 
of the pious in a future state. It is 
thus that mutual confidence and es- 
teem, — complacency, forbearance, in- 
tellectual improvement, and benevolent 
occupation, become increasing source 
of reciprocal tenderness, and of pure 
and undivided affection ; so as to 
produce that vital union of soul, of 
which the sensualist can have no more 
conception, than of the heaven for 
which it is a preparation. 



67 



Mr. Lyttelton. What elevated 
ideas, does this convey of the wedded 
state !— -Not sensual and fleeting, but 
intellectual and unfailing. Health may 
decline and beauty may decay ; but 
rectitude of mind and purity of heart 
will for ever improve, until they be- 
come fitted for those regions where 
divine love is all in all.— Attach- 
ment founded on esteem, and affec- 
tions fixed on intellectual endowments 
and on the virtues of the soul, when 
directed to one beloved object, must in 
their nature be spiritual and eternal. 

Bishop Gibson. According to the 
arrangement of your subject, Bishop 
of Worcester, there now remains for 
consideration the fourth inconvenience 
of age : — " Anxiety on account of the 
approach of death!' Let us, I pray 
you, have your sentiments on that 
subject. 



68 



* Bishop Hough. Uncertainty as 
to life, is not peculiar to old age. 
The young and the active are even 
more liable to fatal accidents and 
violent diseases, than the aged ; and 
if the postponement of death be an 
advantage, age has already obtained 
it ; whilst to youth it must be a matter 
of uncertainty, when not more than 
one in five attains the age of fifty. But 
who that looks to his well-being — who 
that feels the strugglings of immorta- 
lity in this mortal body, would desire 
an extraordinary length of probationary 
existence ? Considerations common to 
the heathen world, and suggested by a 
general view of human nature, would 
repress such a wish. Those, however, 
which are derived from Revelation, 
are of infinitely greater weight. In a 
fallen world, where sin and misery are 
the consequences of a lapse from a 
state of bliss and innocence, no wise 



69 



man would desire to extend the period 
of probation further than its appointed 
limit, when he may be mature for hap- 
piness and immortality. For, when 
the circulation of the blood ceases, and 
the vital heat is no longer conveyed 
through this mortal frame, the soul is 
emancipated from its earthly taber- 
nacle, and with renovated joy and 
vigour, commences its course of intel- 
lectual and immortal existence. And 
if medical men may be relied on, the 
suspension of that vital heat and of the 
current of the blood by which it is 
conveyed, and the immediate approach 
of death, produce a sensation similar 
to that of falling asleep.— I do not, 
however, refer to a premature and 
violent death, which is generally at- 
tended with pain ; but merely to the 
cessation of that vital heat, which 
breathed into created man, made him 
a living soul ; and which by the blood, 



70 



not only communicates its power to 
ever}' part of the living creature, but 
gives out warmth even to the bodies 
around it. 

Mr. Lyttelton. It is said, rny 
Lord, that the heat of the blood is of 
the same temperature, in youth and in 
age, amid the snows of Siberia and in 
the burning sands of Africa ; and that 
while by wool, fur, feathers, and other 
non-conductors, this animal heat can 
be prevented from escaping, the living 
creature will bear almost any severity 
of climate. 

Bishop Hough. So I have read. 
— But let me caution you, that when I 
speak of the final cessation of animal 
heat being a mere sinking into repose^ 
I am not talking of the parting hour 
of the criminal and the vicious. To 
meet death with ease and tranquility, 



71 



is the exclusive privilege of piety and 
virtue. At the same time, frequent 
meditation on our removal from this 
material world is necessary for those, 
who desire that the terrors of death 
should be soothed, and its pangs alle- 
viated. I have long meditated on the 
subject ; and indeed to neglect it at 
my advanced period, would be to sleep 
on my post at the moment of attack. 
— But here again, age has its advan- 
tages : and I must observe, as to the 
actual pain of death to the aged, that 
in a state of maturity the fruit drops 
spontaneously from the tree ; and the 
separation of the immortal soul from 
the mortal body, is of course less 
painful than in early life. How differ- 
ent was the death of the youthful 
Lord Russel, which I witnessed in 
1683 !— -The forlorn age of his father, 
— the widowed state of his dear Lady 
Russel,- — the orphan condition of his 



72 

children, — the illegality of his sen- 
tence, — the dark clouds which over- 
hung his country,— and the cruelty of 
Charles and James, — did so combine 
to embitter his removal from this world, 
that it required all his Christian forti- 
tude and patience, and all the support 
which he derived from his earnest 
prayers, to bear the tiding scene with 
decent composure.— Not that even in 
youth, death is always arrayed with 
terrors : our excellent Sovereign,QuEEN 
Mary, in the prime of life, met her 
approaching end with calmness and 
tranquillity ; thus expressing herself, 
" I thank God, I have always carried 
" this in my mind, that nothing is to 
" be left till the last hour. I have now 
" only to look up to God, and to 
" submit to his will/' 

Bishop Gibson. The parting hour 
of our late Royal Mistress, Queen 



73 



Caroline, was not less affecting and 
impressive. She closed her life with 
admirable and exemplary devotion ; 
maintaining to her last moment, chris- 
tian fortitude and serenity of mind. 
" I have made it/' said she, the 
" object of my life to discharge my 
" religious and social duties ; and hope 
" that God will pardon my infirmities, 
" and accept the sincerity of my en- 
" deavours to promote the King's 
" honour and the prosperity of the 
" nation." The prayer which she re- 
peated on the immediate approach of 
death, was her own composition, and 
truly devout and pathetic. When she 
had concluded it, she desired those 
around her to join in repeating the 
Lord's Prayer, so loud that she might 
hear them ; and waving her hand as it 
concluded, she silently expired. 

Bishop Hough. The dread of the 



74 

unknown world to which we are ap- 
proaching, is like the fear of a child 
going into a dark room ; and we only 
blame the child, when he knows the 
place well, and yet fears the darkness 
in which it is for the time involved. — 
The heathens knew not the place to 
which they were going : they had no 
Revelation as to a future state, and 
were therefore terrified. To us it is 
revealed ; and we know, and are sure, 
that the world we are leaving, and that 
to which we are approaching, are under 
the same government and protection of 
the same omnipotent and benevolent 
power, — with this only difference, that 
sin and misery, the consequence of the 
disobedience of Adam, are in the pre- 
sent world, more or less, the lot of all 
his descendants ; but in a future state 
will affect none but the reprobate and 
disobedient. 



75 



Mr. Lyttelton. I have heard, my 
Lord Bishop, some old men complain 
of want of respect. Has that been con- 
sidered by your Lordship, or do you 
not estimate it among the inconve- 
niences of advanced life ? 

Bishop Hough. I do not so esti- 
mate it. The evil lies in the man, not 
in the period of life. The cheerful and 
obliging, however aged, will always 
receive respect and attention : while 
the fretful and querulous, the morose 
and gloomy, the sordid and avaricious, 
will not find either respect or attention 
at an 3^ period of life. I was, indeed 
prepared to mention the deference paid 
to age, among its advantages : and in 
good sooth I consider it as a balance 
for some of the pleasures of youth. If 
peevishness or avarice discover them- 
selves in the wane of life, they are 
the defects of temper, not of age. He 



76 



who would be happy, must guard 
against them at all times. 

Bishop Gibson. But why, Bishop 
of Worcester, not put sufferings by loss 
of Friends, among the inconveniences 
of age ? 

Bishop Hough. Because it is not 
peculiar to old age, but common to 
every period of life : and in fact it is 
not so painful to the aged, for two 
causes ; — our feelings are less acute ; 
and the restoration to those we love, is 
prospectively less distant, as we ap- 
proach the grave. Little, indeed, did 
I think, at the time of the death of my 
beloved companion, that I should have 
survived her loss for near twenty years. 
I then had comforted myself with the 
expectation of an earlier re-union : — it 
cannot, however, be now very distant. 



77 

Mr. Lyttelton. Indeed, my Lord, 
I cannot conceive a greater loss, than 
that to which you so feelingly refer. 

Bishop Hough. You did not know 
her, my young friend. Let me, there- 
fore, indulge myself in a few words to 
her memory. — Long— long may it be, 
before you experience the interest 
which I now feel, in bearing witness 
to the virtues of a departed wife. — 
Endowed with a pleasing and engaging 
aspect, " she bore a mind, which envy 
" could not but call fair/' Diffident 
and reserved in mixt society, her intel- 
lectual powers were best appreciated 
in the recesses of private life. Warm 
and affectionate in her attachments, 
placable and forgiving when injured, 
and extending her charity with un- 
sparing hand to the deserving and dis- 
tressed, her life was such a continued 
preparation for eternity, that the un- 



78 



expected event, which we all so pain- 
fully felt, might to her be deemed a 
blessing. I say unexpected, for she 
was apparently well; and, on Whit- 
sunday morning, was preparing for 
that attendance on church, which was 
never omitted, when she suddenly ex- 
pired. Her health and spirits, though 
naturally good, had been gradually 
undermined by a long, an anxious, and 
assiduous attendance on a near and 
dear relative ; and her illness had been 
accompanied by severe sufferings, as 
appeared by several of her manuscript 
prayers, which came into my hands 
after her decease. — I know it may 
appear selfish to praise, where the ob- 
ject might be deemed a part of oneself. 
But why should I not declare her 
virtues? The light which they will 
shed, may guide many of my fellow 
Christians to eternal happiness. 



19 

Mr. Lyttelton. Such praise, 
Lord Bishop, requires no apology. 
When ah the habits and affections are 
centered in one beloved object, the 
breaking of the bond of union must be 
like the separation of the soul and 
body, — the annihilation of all earthly 
comfort. 

Bishop Gibson. Mr. Lyttelton is 
musing, Brother, on the dear object of 
his choice : shall we recal him from 
his reverie, by proceeding in your 
subject ? 

Bishop Hough. If we have losses, 
we should recollect the possessions we 
retain, and the additions we are daily 
making to them,— of children, grand- 
children, nephews, nieces, relatives, 
connexions, — advancing in life, dis- 
playing the good effects of the instruc- 
tion and assistance which we have 



80 



given them, and supplying new friends 
to fill up the broken ranks, and to 
produce fresh objects of kindness and 
affection. I mean not, however, to 
preach stoical apathy, on the death of 
those who are dear to us. Time must 
pass, and grief must be soothed by a 
limited indulgence, before the heart is 
ready to receive even the balm of con- 
solation. But an even temper, which 
does not impatiently struggle under 
adversity, will eventually overcome; 
slowly indeed and by degrees, but 
with more assured and complete vic- 
tory. For, where we humbly submit 
to affliction, and at the same time use 
all proper endeavours to lighten its 
weight, our heavenly father will send 
his blessed spirit, to influence and 
support us, and to enable us to apply 
our afflictions for the furtherance of 
our present and future happiness. 



81 



Bishop Gibson. I am perfectly 
aware, that it is by trials endured and 
duties fulfilled, that we become fitted 
for the angelic state ; and have often 
traced in my own history, and in that 
of my nearest and dearest friends, that 
events, painful and distressing at the 
time, have in fact been blessings in 
disguise, and have proved beneficial 
in their consequences. 

Bishop Hough. True, Bishop of 
London ! — - And who would wish to 
remain in a state of blindness and 
security, thoughtless of his latter end, 
until the awful hour overtook him, in 
which he must appear before the 
throne of God, to render his final 
account? How many parents have been 
recalled from the gross idolatry of a 
favourite child, by the removal of the 
object of that idolatry? How often, 
when prosperity has filled the heart 
G 



82 



and made it hard, do these light and 
temporary afflictions soften it, recall 
us from the vain illusions of the world, 
and prepare us for the hour of de ith? 
The heathen philosophers boasted of 
the power of alleviating mental afflic- 
tions, as if it had been in their own 
disposal; but they could not bestow 
on their votaries, what human nature 
has not to bestow. The great author 
of our being has reserved it, to be given 
to those only, who seek it worthily by 
prayer and supplication. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Let me in this 
pause of your subject, again confess 
myself to you, my Lord Bishop. It 
sometimes happens that I omit the 
duty of prayer, conceiving my mind 
to be unfitted for an act so solemn and 
sacred : for, if I feel no warmth of 
gratitude and affection, and derive no 
pleasure from it, I fear my homage 



will not be acceptable, and I do not 
presume to offer it at a time so little 
adapted to worthy service. 

Bishop Hough. All our ser- 
vice is unworthy. But we should 
ever bear in mind, that regular prayer 
is a duty enjoined ; and though worldly 
occupation or bodily indisposition 
may sometimes occasion wandering 
thoughts, yet God will ever listen to 
the desires of a heart humbly devoted 
to him. 

Bishop Gibson. By a similar 
misconception, some well-intentioned 
Christians have been kept from the 
holy sacrament : not considering 
that, although none of us are worthy of 
being admitted to his table, yet we 

ARE ALL COMMANDED TO COME. I 

have sometimes met with serious and 
well disposed persons, who because 



84 



they did not always feel the same pious 
disposition, have feared that God had 
at times zdthdrawn himself from them, 
and that they were become unworthy 
of his grace. I have endeavoured 
to pour balm into such broken and 
contrite spirits, by this consoling truth; 
that, when we are so humbled by the 
sense of our own guilt as to dread 
being cast off for ever, God is most 
watchful over us, and most compas- 
sionate towards us. There is indeed 
no trial so afflicting to a pious and 
virtuous mind, as this state of spiritual 
darkness — this sense of guilt, and ear- 
nest longing for mercy and pardon 
from the Supreme Being. This seems 
to have been the great trial of our 
blessed Saviour, when he was 
wounded for our iniquities. — God 
withdrew himself from him ; deprived 
him of the inward support and conso- 
lation of his divine presence, and 



85 

abandoned him on the cross to all the 
sufferings of his human nature. Jesus 
endured the sense of his heavenly 
Father's displeasure ; and his soul was 
sorrowful and dismayed, when he cried 
out, " My God, my God, why hast 
" thou forsaken me ?" He has 
imself experienced this state of agony ; 
and his mercy and pity will be ever 
ready to make intercession for those, 
who are truly sorry for their sins. 

Bishop Hough. Allow me, in the 
fullnes of my heart, here to express my 
feelings on this affecting subject. — What 
praises, what debt of gratitude, indeed 
do I not owe to our heavenly Father, 
for countless mercies during an ex- 
tended life, and for that greatest of all 
mercies that he has not hid his face 
from me? The votaries of sensual 
indulgence have sought out many 
inventions, — vain and corroding plea- 



86 



surest — broken cisterns that hold no 
water; and though again and again 
deceived they still recur to the same 
delusion. Did they but once practi- 
cally know, from whence is derived 
all happiness, earthly and celestial, 
human and divine, they would feel 
that to the Father of Mercies alone, 
their prayers, their desires, their devout 
aspirations should be directed. He is 
the fountain and source of all happi- 
ness; and, when he condescends to 
visit the penitent and humble suppli- 
cant and to speak comfort to his soul, 
all the petty inconveniences of sickness, 
penury, and misfortune, vanish in a 
moment: for in his presence is fulness 
of joy, and at his right hand there is 
pleasure for evermore. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I thank both 
your Lordships for the satisfaction I 
receive. — But hitherto, Lord Bishop 






87 



of Worcester, you have been acting 
only on the defensive, and obviating 
objections. — What say you to carrying 
the war into the enemy's country? I 
look with interest and expectation, to 
your account of the positive comforts 
of old age. 

Bishop Hough. I thought it right, 
Mr. Lyttelton, to clear my ground and 
remove obstructions, before I began 
my edifice. — Enough has been said of 
the inconveniences of old age ; let us 
now consider its advantages. — Here, 
however, I fear it will be necessary for 
me to play the Egotist ; and to enter 
into the detail of my own life, and the 
disposition and arrangement of my 
time. 

Bishop Gibson. This is the very 
thing, Brother, we both wish; my 
young friend that he may prepare 



88 



against a distant period, and myself 
that I may now follow your precepts. 

Bishop Hough. By the mercy of 
God, I can still say that I am never 
sick ; nor do I feel any acute pain at 
the advanced age of ninety. I still live 
in greater ease, than I durst have 
hoped ; but to me, every day is now 
become a portion of life. Indeed, I 
little thought of living to the age, I am 
now arrived at. — Health is the root 
of all our innocent enjoyments in this 
world. To the attainment of health, 
we shall find temperance, exercise, and 
regularity of habit, to be all essentially 
necessary. For the portion of that 
health which I enjoy, I am in some 
degree indebted to my profession ; 
which excludes every idea of dissipa- 
tion and intemperance, and requires 
a regular and orderly course of life. 
From the episcopal order to the clergy, 



89 



and from the clergy to the people at 
large, it is most essential that the ex- 
amples of Christain virtue and decorum 
should be transmitted, as from a pure 
and uncorrupted source ; and that we 
should not only be exempt from vice, 
but a shining example to others. The 
inscription for the Roman Senate, is 
more peculiarly applicable to the En- 
glish clergy: Is ordo vitio careto, 

CJETERIS SPECIMEN ESTO. But though 

temperance and exercise, and regula- 
rity of habit, be necessary to the pre- 
servation of health, yet they are weak 
and impotent agents, if the mind itself 
be agitated. When Corn a no, cele- 
brated for temperance and longevity, 
sought in the prime of life the restora- 
tion of health, his first object, as he 
tells us in the account he has given of 
himself, was the regulation of his temper, 
and the cultivation of cheerful habits: 
and to this he appears to have been as 



90 



much indebted for an extended and 
happy life, as to his daily practice of 
temperance. My late friend, Sir 
John Floyer, who preserved his 
health and spirits to the advanced age 
of ninety, spent some weeks with me 
at Hartlebury two or three years before 
his death. My neighbours were all 
surprised to see a man of that age, 
with his memory, understanding, and 
faculties perfect ; and appearing to 
labour under no infirmity. He was, 
Mr. Lyttelton, the old gentleman of the 
party : I was then only fourscore. In 
compliance with the wishes of us young 
folks, he communicated his secret, — 
his Receipt for preparing the Elixir 
ViTiE; and informed us that by atten- 
tion and habit, he had obtained so 
great a command over his temper, 
as never to be moved with any thing 
that he could not hope to remedy ; and 
by this, and a constant disposition to 



91 



enter into the innocent amusements 
and enjoyments of others, he had ex- 
tended his life to that period, in peace 
and comfort. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Sir John Floyer 
was before my time : but I have heard 
my father describe him, as a man of 
the most amiable disposition. 

Bishop Hough. He was extremely 
amiable. But indeed, Mr. Lyttelton, 
complacency and social habits are 
characteristics of the true Christian. 
Nothing promotes cheerfulness and 
suavity of manners, more than the 
study of the Gospel : and as it is 
pleasing to see the fire of youth tem- 
pered by the gravity of age, so it is 
gratifying to observe the phlegm of 
age enlivened with the vivacity of 
youth. When, therefore, I am in com- 
pany with the young, I endeavour, as 



w 



far as my station and time of life will 
permit, to assimilate my manners to 
theirs : and I find two good effects 
from it; one, that they listen with 
much more pleasure and attention, to 
any advice I may see occasion to 
offer ; the other, that I prevent, what is 
far more odious than any wrinkles of 
the body, — those wrinkles of the mind 
(as Montaigne terms them) which are 
so destructive of the virtues of the 
heart, and of the intellectual features. 
— Why should sourness and peevish- 
ness of temper have any thing to do 
with old age? They are the vices of 
the narrow and selfish. The liberal and 
benevolent, like rich and generous 
wines, improve with keeping. What 
will turn acid in so short a life as 
ours, must owe its sourness to 
poverty of spirit and meanness of 
character. Nobler dispositions sof- 
ten and meliorate, and become more 



93 



and more kind and disinterested, with 
length of years ; acquiring a smooth- 
ness, a milkiness, and sweetness of 
character, commensurate to their pe- 
riod of existence, and preparatory to 
that intellectual state which they are 
shortly to enjoy. The handsomest and 
most elegant compliment, which is to 
be found in the father of epic poetry, 
comes from the aged counsellors of 
Priam ; who, on the sight of Helen, ex- 
claim, " We cannot object to suffer so 
" ong the calamities of war, for a 
" woman so like the immortals m 
" beauty." Where is the young Beau, 
who could have expressed himself with 
more chivalrous gallantry? — But in 
order to preserve this pleasantness of 
disposition, a regular habit of self-ex- 
amination is necessary ; so that we 
may relieve and disincumber the mind 
of all selfish and irritable feelings ; and 
cherish by daily habit, gentle and con- 



94 



ciliating manners, forbearance to our 
equals, kindness to dependants, atten- 
tion to the poor, and all the other dear- 
est charities of life. — I am therefore 
in practice a Pythagorean ; and before 
my lectular devotions at night, I strictly 
examine my conduct during the day ; 
and if I have been peevish or perverse, 
or have done amiss, consider how I may 
make amends the next morning. If, 
however, my conscience does not ac- 
cuse me of any act or omission on my 
part, I sink immediately into quiet 
sleep, almost as I lay my head on the 
pillow ; being able to say with the 
poet ; 

. Rectius hoc est ; 

Hoc faciens vivam melius, sic dulcis Amicis 
Occurram. 

Bishop Gibson. Self-examination, 
my good friend, may do much towards 
preserving us from what is evil, and 
something in directing us to what is 



95 

good : but to produce habitual cheerful- 
ness, will not more be necessary, than 
merely to ascertain and correct our 
course through life ? 

Bishop Hough. Certainly; and I 
am preparing to state what those 
means are. Indeed I hold it abso- 
lutely necessary, that from various 
sources which I shall enumerate, plea- 
sant and amusing thoughts should be 
stored up and domesticated in the mind ; 
not only as an antidote against serious 
evils, but as a medicine for those lit- 
tle vexations and untoward incidents, 
which sometimes will discompose the 
firmest mind. 

Bishop Gibson. Such, I suppose? 
as that which befel your barometer. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Allow me to 
ask what was that accident, my Lord. 



96 

Bishop Gibson. Why nothing in 
the world, but that a young clerical 
visitor contrived by excess of awk- 
wardness, to throw down and break 
my Brother's favourite barometer : but 
he was immediately relieved by the 
Bishop saying, with a smile, " Well ! 
" I never saw the quicksilver so low 
" before/' 

Bishop Hough. If you will not 
accuse me of Egotism, I will mention 
a circumstance that has very lately 
occurred. A country neighbour and 
his dame dined with me on new-year's- 
day. She was in the family-way r , and 
during dinner was much indisposed ; 
they both went home as soon as they 
could after dinner. The next morning 
the husband came and informed me 
of the cause of her indisposition ; — 
that she had longed for my silver tureen, 
and was in considerable danger. I was 



97 



anxious that my tureen should not be 
the cause of endangering her life, or 
become a model for the shape of her 
child ; and immediately sent it her. 
In due time she produced a chopping 
boy, and last week when I offered my 
congratulations on her recovery, I in- 
formed her that now in my turn I 
longed for the tureen, which I begged 
she would send by the bearer : and 
that I would always have it ready to 
send her again, in case of any future 
longing. 

Bishop Gibson. So, Brother, you 
saved both the tureen and the child. 

Bishop Hough. Well ! and was 
it not well managed ? — This, however, 
suggests another topic of considera- 
tion. In order to preserve serenity 
and cheerfulness of mind, we should 
be very careful to guard against vain 
H 



98 

and fruitless desires, which vex and 
agitate the mind, and give it a restless 
and unsettled disposition. Our real 
happiness does not so much depend 
on the nature and extent of our pos- 
sessions, as on our being satisfied with 
what we possess ; and our obtaining 
that self-command, which will enable 
us to limit our wishes to what may 
be attainable. This is a matter of 
great importance to our peace and 
tranquillity. At the same time I must 
not omit adding, that it is not enough 
to put on habits of cheerfulness in our 
social meetings : we should be cheer- 
ful, not merely when our friends are 
about us, but when we are alone and 
in our closet ; we should exclude every 
thing that presumes to disturb our 
serenity of mind, and entertain only 
such thoughts, as bring comfort and 
pleasantness along with them. 



99 

Mr. Lyttelton. But how, my 
dear Lord, are we to do this ? Can we 
always repel anxious and afflicting 
thoughts from the mind ? or, when 
deeply injured and exasperated, or 
cruelly wounded by the faults or follies 
of others, can we always preserve a 
stoical apathy, and remain entirely 
unmoved ? 

Bishop Hough. It may appear 
difficult to those, who have never tried 
what may be done by patience and 
perseverance. The faults and follies 
of others may for the moment awaken 
a painful sensation ; but we are very 
seldom really injured, except by our ozm. 
Can we imagine that he, whose yoke 
is easy and whose burthen light — 
he, who knew the heart of man and 
needed not that any one should tell 
him, — would have commanded us 



100 

not to be of an anxious mind, if the 
degree of anxiety had been entirely out 
of our power ? The command implies 
a promise, that whenever our endea- 
vours to obey his precept are sincere, 
earnest, and continued, his grace 
shall be sufficient for us. Can we 
conceive that he, who could say to 
the wind and the sea, " peace, be 
still/' cannot also give tranquillity 
to the agitated mind ? or is it a lesser 
miracle, that an unbelieving and aban- 
doned sinner should be converted from 
the error of his way, than that a sincere 
Christian should be enabled to regu- 
late his passions and affections ? Or 
shall we suppose that the divine grace 
will not be equally extended in either 
instance? God said to Abraham, 
" Walk thou before me, and be per- 
fect/' The presence of our creator 
will always calm the mind — will give 



101 

peace to the soul during the trials of 
the day, and tranquil rest to the body 
at night. 

Bishop Gibson. But do you 
mean to say, that all persons are able, 
with our present premier Sir Robert, 
to cast off their cares with their clothes, as 
he is said do ? 

Bishop Hough. Certainly I mean 
to contend that they should always 
attempt it ; at least, if they have any 
taste for the enjoyment of calm, re- 
freshing, and invigorating sleep. Na- 
tural tempers may differ, as well as 
natural strength of mind, or natural 
health of body : while, therefore, we 
strive to improve our intellectual pow- 
ers and bodily health, let us address 
our prayers to God, that he would 
vouchsafe to calm and mitigate that 
temper, upon the tone of which the 



102 

exertion of those powers, and the en- 
joyment of that health, must in a great 
measure depend. 

Bishop Gibson. These considera- 
tions, Bishop of Worcester, may apply 
o the petty incidents of domestic life. 
But, even if we can guard our minds 
as to private calamities, how can we 
hope to exempt ourselves from other 
causes of uneasiness? The state of 
public affairs, for example, since the 
late Queen's death, — the ambition of 
Princes, — the hostile dispositions of 
foreign courts, — the violence of con- 
tending parties at home,— are not these 
subjects of alarm, Brother? and can 
we pretend to keep the mind entirely 
calm and composed, amid such a hur- 
ricane around us ? 

Bishop Hough. In a free country 
like England, the energy of national 



103 

character, and the union of those who 
do not contaminate themselves by party 
politics, will always augment their 
power and exertions, in proportion as 
the exigences of the community require 
it. Impressed with this idea, I view 
with composure, things that may be 
alarming to others. The personal cha- 
racter of those who govern, their petty 
jealousies and contests, their probable 
apostacies and contradictions, and the 
possible consequences of the future 
transformations of these ephemeral 
politicians, are of little moment to 
me, while I look back with devout 
gratitude on the events of the last fifty 
years. Preserved from civil and ec- 
clesiastical tyranny, I acknowledge 

A RULING PROVIDENCE IN THE HIS- 
TORY of Britain : and I confide in 
the continuance of that providential 
protection, so long as my country is 
not wholly unworthy to hold its place 



104 

upon this ball of earth. In an age of 
dissipation and profligacy, I feel that 
much good has been done by indivi- 
duals among us. We have preserved 
the knowledge of divine truth ; we 
have spread it among our own poor ; 
and we have diffused it with active 
and well directed zeal, over every 
peopled region of this habitable globe. 
I look up, therefore, to the God of 
mercy ; and though I put not my trust 
in princes, or in the sons of men, yet 
while fifty righteous are to be found 
in this country, I have hope that we 
shall not be left, like Sodom and Go- 
morrah, a monument of divine justice. 

Bishop Gibson. Hovv say you 
then, Brother, when the Church is in 
danger ? — When the cause of anxiety 
refers not merely to temporal and 
perishable concerns, but to the inte- 
rests of our pure and reformed religion 



105 

as by law established, are we to remain 
calm and composed, and is not neu- 
trality at such a moment culpable ? 
For example, the sectaries of the pre- 
sent day, tempted by pride and the 
desire of power, are busied in sug- 
gesting doubts and difficulties, hostile 
to the Establishment, and destructive 
of Christian unity and charity. 

Bishop Hough. Let me not be 
supposed to approve of a factious 
opposition, tending to create schism 
and division in the church, and to 
mislead the pious and humble Chris- 
tian. At the same time, let me say 
that my apprehension is about the 
progress of infidelity. What I 
most dread is a relapse into that 
indifference about religion itself, against 
which you have so solemnly warned 
us in your excellent Pastoral Let- 
ters. My paroxysms of anxiety, 



JOG 

however, have been slight and mo- 
mentary ; for I have an entire and 
unshaken reliance in him, who, speak- 
ing of pure Christianity, has assured us 
that " the gates of hell shall never 
" prevail against it." I see with very 
great satisfaction, that eminent men 
among the dissenters are uniting with 
our own learned and pious divines, in 
defence of revealed religion. This 
union in a common cause gives me the 
more pleasure, because serious Chris- 
tians, in proportion as they know more 
of each other, will love one another 
more. The Champion of our Church, 
Dr. Chillingwortb, has well observed 

that THE BIBLE ONLY IS THE RELI- 
GION of Protestants. — While this 
remains our common standard of or- 
thodoxy — our Christian bond of union, 
we may regard lesser things without 
anxiety. No hostility should ever 
exist among those disciples of Christ, 



107 

who strive to make their lives and doc- 
trines conformable to his precepts and 
example. Hearts may agree, though 
heads differ : there may be unity of 
spirit, if not of opinion ; and it is always 
an advantage, to entertain a favourable 
opinion of those, who differ from us in 
religious sentiments. It tends to nou- 
rish Christian charity. For my own 
part, I welcome with cordial and 
entire satisfaction, every thing which 
tends to approximate one denomination 
of Christians to another ; being per- 
suaded that he, who is a conscientious 
believer in Christ, cannot be a bad 
man. Whatever therefore contributes 
to unite us all in kindness and bro- 
therly love,— -to smooth asperities, to 
remove difficulties, and to reconcile 
discordancy of sentiment, — is to me 
soothing and delightful ; as it brings 
all the sincere and faithful disciples 
of Christ into one fold, under one 



108 

shepherd ; and thereby anticipates his 
glorious reign upon earth. 

Bishop Gibson. But, Brother, let 
us be very careful, lest, while we avoid 
indifference as to religion, we fall into 
indifference as to doctrine ; and under the 
specious names of candour and liber- 
ality, nourish habits of complacency 
for the errors and heresies of others. 

Bishop Hough. .Error, my dear 
Friend, should not be confounded with 
heresy. Among Protestants, who 
possess the privilege of reading the 
Scriptures, and forming their lives and 
opinions by them, it is hardly possible 
but that some shades of difference 
should exist; particularly among those 
who, like the Bereans, " receive the 
" word with all readiness of mind, 
" and search the Scriptures daily/' 
" Errare possum (says Augustin) 



109 

hereticus esse nolo : " I may err, 
" but I will never be an Heretic/' 
The true Christian is known by his 
fruits. His object is vital and practical 
Christianity ; not the diving into mys- 
teries, on which God hath not thought 
proper expressly to declare his will. — 
What is so revealed, the Christian feels 
it his duty to obey ; with these encou- 
raging words from our redeemer, " If 
" a man love me, he will keep my 
" words; and my father will love him, 
" and we will come to him and make our 
" abode with him. ' — Let us therefore 
bear in mind the saying of Moses — 
" The secret things belong 
" unto the Lord our God : but 
" those things which are re- 
" VEALED, belong unto us and to 
" OUR children for ever, that 

" WE MAY DO THEM," 

Bishop Gibson. It is the holy 



110 

spirit alone, which incites and enables 
us to do good, and to render to God 
acceptable service ; though the miracu- 
lous endowment of it has long ceased ; 
and it is now no otherwise discernible 
than by its fruits and effects, as they 
appear in our lives. But these enthu- 
siasts, my friend, endeavour to per- 
suade others, and some of them seem 
to be themselves persuaded, that they 
are miraculously gifted, and directed 
in an extraordinary manner by divine 
impulses and impressions of the spirit 
of God ; not distinguishing aright 
between the ordinary and extraordi- 
nary operations of the holy spirit: 
and they thus wander on from error to 
error, in the mazes of enthusiasm, 
because they will not submit them- 
selves to a proper guide and director. 

Bishop Hough. I am not insen- 
sible of the dangers of enthusiasm, or 



Ill 

ignorant of the persecutions and ex- 
cesses to which it has led, when bigots 
have attempted to force their creeds 
upon the consciences of others. Mis- 
judging of the motives and principles 
of their brethren, presuming on the 
exclusive truth of their own opinions, 
and impelled by religious anxiety, they 
thought, like Paul, they were doing 
God service when they were perse- 
cuting their Christian brethren. How 
different the devout and zealous Chris- 
tian, whose errors are accompanied by 
meekness and humility ! — Who can 
acquit the benevolent, the excellent 
Fenelon, the venerable Archbishop 
of Cambray, of the charge of enthu- 
siasm. Yet it was the enthusiasm of 
piety and devotion : it was the aspiration 
of the creature to its Creator. Pure 
and undefiled religion is of no sect : 
whatever garb it wear, and whatever 
be the denomination of the sincere and 



112 

faithful believer, let us in him acknow- 
ledge the brother. — But the tendency 
of infidelity is to narrow the soul, to 
weaken its energy, contract its views, 
and to confine its hopes to the present 
period of existence. The infidel is a 
solitary and ferocious animal ; reck- 
less of the welfare of others, and oc- 
cupied with the sensual and selfish 
enjoyment of the present hour: while 
such a believer as Fenelon, — though he 
may err in opinion, and carry his 
religious feelings to an extent not 
warranted by Scripture, — is raised 
above the petty objects of this trans- 
itory state, and despising danger and 
death, looks forward with fervent hope 
to the rewards of futurity. 

Bishop Gibson. Your seclusion 
from public life, my excellent friend, 
has made you less acquainted with 
this new sect of Methodists, and the 



113 

intemperance and hostility of their 
conduct. They now carry their pre- 
sumption so far, as to pretend to 
ordain for the ministry : they have the 
audacity to accuse our clergy of neg- 
lect of duty, not merely in lesser 
points, but in the primary and essen- 
tial one, of preaching the Gospel. 
They profess to agree with us in 
doctrine, while they separate from us 
in communion and unite against us in 
practice : and, pretending to extraor- 
dinary sanctity, they seek for excess of 
power, and by extending their influ- 
ence over the kingdom threaten the 
subversion of the Establishment. Is 
not this, Bishop of Worcester, a just 
and sufficient cause for anxiety ? 

Bishop Hough. I think not. If 
it be of man, it will come to nought ; 
but if it be of God, we cannot over- 
throw it, nor need we fear evil from it. 
I 



114 

May they not, in the hands of Provi- 
dence, be the means of bringing us to 
a more acute sense of our duty, and to 
a more perfect knowledge of evangeli- 
cal truth. The Christian Church has 
never been in so great danger, as 
when it has continued for any time in 
a state of unruffled prosperity. The 
existence of sects seems to me not only 
to be inseparable from the nature of 
imperfect intelligence, but of benefit 
to religion itself; and while the Bible 
continues to be the acknowledged 
standard of faith, they can be of no 
material prejudice. I respect even 
the errors of the conscientious Chris- 
tian ; and feel the impossibility of a 
perfect unison of sentiment, in rational 
beings who think for themselves. That 
there have been sectaries, whose ob- 
jects were worldly praise and worldly 
power, cannot be denied : but the 
number I trust is limited. And, look- 



115 

ing to the true interests of religion, let 
us consider in what state (had no 
diversity of opinion existed) Chris- 
tianity might have been at the present 
day : if we now are luke-wainn, what 
would have been our state of torpidity 
had one dominant creed been submit- 
ted to by all Christians, without exa- 
mination, for a period of seventeen 
centuries ; and there had existed no 
difference of religious opinion, to in- 
duce inquiry or awaken interest ? Let 
us at the same time not forget, that the 
right of searching the holy scriptures, 
and judging for ourselves, was the 
ground, on which we separated from 
the church of Rome, venerable both 
in antiquity and authority ; and let us 
be very tender of abridging this right 
to others. While we bear in mind that 
we are the descendants of fallen and 
imperfect creatures, we can hardly 
presume that of all sects, we alone are 



116 

without any shade of error or warp or 
prejudice ; and we should be very 
careful how we intermix any desires or 
interests of our own, with the concerns 
of religion. " When lust (says the 
Apostle James) hath conceived, it 
" bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it 
" is completed, bringeth forth death." 

Mr. Lyttelton. Did it ever 
strike you, my Lord, that to this single 
verse, we are indebted for Mr. Milton's 
bold and poetic Allegory of Sin and 
Death ? 

Bishop Hough. The observation 
to me is new, and appears to be 
founded.— But to proceed.— I have 
mentioned devout praj^er, earnest 
endeavour, and habitual piety (where- 
by, to use our Saviour's words, the 
Kingdom of God is within ns, or as 
St. Paul explains it, we are filled with 



117 

" righteousness and peace, and *joy in 
the Holj Ghost")— as the means of 
obtaining that happy temperament of 
mind, on the regular prevalence of 
which, our mental and bodily health, 
and our present and future happiness do 
in a great measure depend. — To these 
I must add cheerful thoughts, 
derived from cheerful society, and from 
the perusal of pleasant and entertaining 
books. — The latter we can always 
command ; but the frequency of social 
intercourse will depend, not merely 
on the temper of the host, but on local 
and accidental circumstances : and I 
rejoice to find, that hitherto neither my 
age or appearance have terrified the 
young and the gay from my presence. 
As, however, the society of books may 
be always enjoyed, I shall enlarge a 
little on that subject. — The mind is a 
camelion. It takes its colour from 
that with which it is most conversant, 



118 

but particularly from its studies; which, 
as Cicero observes, have a great and 
important influence on the human 
character. We are sensible of the 
danger, of habituating ourselves to 
representations of cruelty or sensu- 
ality ; aware, that the one hardens the 
heart, and the other debases and cor- 
rupts it. Yet few attend to the effects 
of those writings, which furnish melan- 
choly and desponding ideas, and cast 
a shade over our view of a world, in 
which (however impaired by sin and 
disobedience) a merciful Creator has 
abundantly provided for the happiness 
of his creatures. The accustoming of 
a child to cheerful habits, is of such im- 
portance to its welfare in life, that it 
ought to be an object of education ; 
and it would not only be compatible 
with discipline, but might be made 
subservient to it, and accelerate the 
progress of instruction. 



119 

Bishop Gibson. If Mr. Locke's 
suggestion of engaging the feelings 
and wishes of children, and substi- 
tuting for terror and corporal punish- 
ment, emulation and the desire to 
excel, could be practically adopted in 
our schools, it would contribute greatly 
to that habitual cheerfulness, which 
you, brother, so properly recommend. 
He who shall ever arrange, and carry 
into practice, such a system of educa- 
tion, will confer an essential benefit 
on mankind, and gladden the hearts 
of millions. 

Bishop Hough. Habitual cheer- 
fulness, indeed, may be considered 
as a continued act of gratitude to the 
giver of all good, for the countless 
blessings which we enjoy ; and, as it 
forms a part of the Christian cha- 
racter, we should avoid all books 
of a contrary tendency. But there 



120 

is another species of reading, which 
I deem il proper to protest against; 
— the perusal of those writings, which 
tend to vilify and degrade human 
nature. When we are induced to 
forego the high pretensions of rational 
and immortal beings, the heart becomes 
enfeebled and debased. Submitting 
to a lower estimate of our rank in 
creation, we weaken the spring of 
virtuous and noble actions; for no 
one, who has a mean opinion of his 
own character and powers, will act 
above the standard which he has fixed 
on. Mr. Addison has truly said, that 
" there is not a more improving exer- 
" cise of the human mind, than to be 
" frequently viewing its own great pri- 
" vileges and endowments ; nor more 
" effectual means to awaken in us an 
" ambition, raised above low objects 
" and little pursuits, than to value 
" ourselves as heirs of eternity." 



121 

— -There is )^et a third species, which 
it seems necessary to notice ; I mean 
those writings, which are calculated 
to vituperate our national character. 
All misrepresentations of the actions 
and motives, even of our enemies, are 
•unjustifiable and criminal ; but an 
attempt thus to degrade and paralyse 
our own country, goes as far beyond 
the other, as the crime of a parricide 
exeeds that of a common murderer : 
and when this is committed under the 
pretence of patriotism and candour, the 
most abandoned guilt is aggravated 
by the most infamous hypocrisy. — In 
selecting books, therefore, for my pe- 
rusal, I prefer those which supply the 
mind with cheerful and pleasing ideas ; 
such as may not only furnish conversa- 
tion in society, but most gratefully 
occur to the recollection, and provide 
intellectual pleasure at other times : — 
such as may enliven solitude, and 



122 

amuse a wakeful hour at night. In 
the first class of these I place the 
Holy Scriptures ; and after them, 
the classic writers of different ages 
aud countries. — What solitary or 
heavy moment can that rational being 
experience, whose mind is stored with 
contemplations of the power, wisdom, 
and benignity of the Divine Being,— 
animated by the hope of an happy 
immortality, — and enlivened by the 
most pleasing and ingenious produc- 
tions of the human mind ? The aged, 
who for want of instruction in youth, 
or from indolent habits in mature life, 
are incapable of reading, and are 
thereby deprived of the intellectual 
comfort which it affords, are almost 
if not quite as much the objects of 
compassion, as those who have lost 
their appetite for bodily food. 

Bishop Gibson. Yet I have met 



123 

with some illiterate parents, who have 
had strange apprehensions of their 
children becoming too fond of books, 
lest they should injure their constitu- 
tion by over-study. 

Bishop Hough. Among the sources 
of health, at my advanced period of 
life, I reckon my constant practice of 
devoting certain hours every day to 
literature, or science. Books are cal- 
culated, not only to meliorate the 
habits of society, but to tranquillize 
the mind, soften asperity of character, 
extend the benevolent affections, and 
to intellectualize the sensual part of 
our nature : and indeed it is an un- 
founded prejudice (as the indefatigable 
Bishop Huet has observed) to ima- 
gine, that the pursuit of learning is 
injurious to health. Studious men are 
as long lived in general, as others. The 
literati- to whom we are indebted for 



]24 

the amusing collection known under 
the title of ana, were long lived : two 
thirds of them passed the age of se- 
venty-six ; and as man} r of them at- 
tained the age of ninety, as died under 
sixty. In fact, if excess of exertion be 
avoided (I address myself particularly 
to you, dear Bishop of London) and 
if exercise and temperance be not 
neglected, the kind of occupation 
which the love of literature supplies, 
and the regular, calm, and uniform 
course of life which it ensures, will 
conduce generally to health, and pre- 
clude man} 7 things which might other- 
wise impair it.« — But to return to my 
subject. He who can read the classi- 
cal writers for taste, and the scriptures 
for devotion, need never be apprehen- 
sive of the tedium of age. For my own 
part, I make it a rule constantly to 
devote a certain period of the day to 
each of these studies. But I do not 



125 

stop there. Fortunately for me, among 
some property left by a relation, was a 
large collection of vo} T ages, travels, 
history, biography, romances, novels, 
and a variety of miscellaneous books. 
I say, fortunately ; for if I had been 
obliged to resort for them to my book- 
seller, as a purchaser, some of my 
flock would have exclaimed, " our old 
" Bishop might employ his money and 
" his time on better books/' 

Bishop Gibson. What, Brother, 
are we then to infer, that you have 
admitted novels and romances into 
your library, as sources of literary 
occupation ? Is not their tendency, to 
enfeeble the mind, to give a false esti- 
mate of life, to corrupt the imagina- 
tion, and unfit us for the enjoyment of 
domestic society,— making every day 
that is not marked by some striking 



126 

and interesting occurrence, appear 
tame, heavy, and insipid ? 

Bishop Hough. Novels are not 
admitted into my list, except speciali 
gratia;— not that a man turned of 
ninety, need be warned against their 
bad effects. In this uncertain world, 
however, when there are such frequent 
calls for fortitude and resignation, 
those studies are best, which strengthen 
the mind and direct it to higher and 
nobler objects : they will indeed be 
found of the greatest comfort and 
utility, under the trials of this proba- 
tionary state; and our daily prayer 
should be for purity of heart, holiness 
of life, and daily progress in habitual 
kindness, in mutual forbearance, and 
devout resignation to the will of God. 
But all this, Bishop of London, is not 
inconsistent with occasional recurrence 



127 

to these lighter studies, which promote 
gaiety of heart and vivacity of mind. 
Nor do I conceive that universally, 
such writers are either idle, or merely 
entertaining. Cheerful habils may be 
acquired by the perusal of them. In- 
cidents and thoughts may be stored in 
the mind, to enliven not only the grave 
and vacant hoiir, but what is sometimes 
much more heavy and tiresome, grave 
and vacant discourse. They may serve 
to illustrate a serious discussion, and 
to attract the young and the gay to 
one's habitation.— I am very fond of 
voyages and travels. The being 
able to make the tour of Europe, or to 
sail round the world, without quitting 
the comfort of one's arm chair, is to 
an old man at least such a luxury, 
that when we talk of taxing luxuries, 
I marvel how this escapes. Besides, 
they excite in me a warm interest/ for 
the moral and religious improvement 



128 

of distant regions : just as historical 
reading creates gratitude in my heart/ 
for the age and country in which my 
happy lot has been cast. History is 
indeed to me always delightful. The 
being able to exist, not only at the 
present hour, but in any period of six 
thousand years back,— to trace events 
from their causes, and to estimate the 
progressive improvement of mankind, 
are gratifications of the highest order. 
— Of the authors of what are sometimes 
miscalled idle books, I honour Cer- 
vantes for his courage and talent. 
Surrounded by the snares and fires of 
the Inquisition, he has ventured, in 
many parts of his Don Quixote, to at- 
tack the frauds and delusions of papal 
Rome, with infinite spirit and address. 
He has furnished excellent lessons for 
our instruction; and whenever, in early 
life, I was seized with a slight paroxysm 
of ambition, I found in the annals of 



129 

Sancho Panca's short and toilsome 
government, an effectual and pleasing 
remedy. From Gil Blas' own his- 
tory, I have learnt to bear the little 
untoward incidents of life with calm- 
ness and good humour : and the story 
of the Archbishop of Granada has not 
been lost upon me ; for while I am 
fulfilling my clerical duties, I am care- 
ful not to weary the world with my 
homilies. And I trust, if my faithful 
and affectionate friend and Secretary 
Harrison, who has just left the room, 
were to warn me that I was extending 
the period of my oratory a little too 
far, I should not reply with the elo- 
quent Archbishop, " Allez dire a mon 
" Tresorier qu'il vous compte cent 
" ducats. — Adieu, Monsieur Harri- 
" son : je vous souhaite toutes sortes 
" de prosperites, avec un peu plus de 
"gout/' — Moliere is with me a 
favourite author. After some of our 
K 



130 

English dramatists have shewn, that 
a composition may be offensively li- 
centious and yet abominably dull, we 
have no small obligation to Moliere, 
for having proved that the comic 
muse may be decent and unexcep- 
tionable, and yet extremely witty and 
entertaining. 

Bishop Gibson. I have often re- 
gretted, Brother, that our dramatic 
poet is not entitled to the same com- 
mendation. There is hardly a play of 
Shakespeare's, that can be enjoyed 
by a family circle; some indecorous 
expression or allusion occurring, un- 
suitable to the feelings of chaste and 
delicate minds. 

Bishop Hough. The compositions 
of Shakespeare mark the gross man- 
ners of the age, in which he lived ; as 
later productions have displayed the 



131 

profaneness and licentiousness, which 
reigned in this country after the Re- 
storation. Moliere belonged to a Court, 
which, however dissipated, always pre- 
served an exterior of decency ; and he 
played off the little follies and foibles 
of life, with inimitable pleasantry and 
humour. But Shakespeare, with every 
disadvantage of situation, held an ele- 
vated course as a didactic and 
intellectual poet ; and whatever 
may remain of the contagious atmos- 
phere, through which it was his lot to 
pass, yet he displays the most sublime 
lessons of virtue and morality, that are 
to be found in any uninspired writer. 

Bishop Gibson. Why not then at 
once purify the source, and correct the 
plays for domestic use, as the players 
do for theatrical representation ; and 
in the inundation of commentated and 
illustrated editions, let there be one, 



132 

purified and corrected for the benefit 
of private families ? 

Bishop Hough. I heartily wish 
there were. — But to proceed. The 
perusal of the story of Baba Abdallah, 
(lately translated by Monsieur Galland 
in his mille et une nuits) is an antidote 
to avarice. — 

Mr. Lyttelton. Of all these 
Arabian tales, my Lord, none pleases 
me so much as that of Prince Zeyat - 
Alasnam, who is the possessor of 
eight statues, each composed of a 
single diamond. He is informed, 
however, that there is in the world a 
ninth statue, of a thousand times 
greater value than them all. The 
acquisition of this inestimable prize 
becomes his object. The Statue is at 
length obtained, — a lovely female of 
a pure unadulterated mind, whom he 



133 

receives with this admirable lesson : 
" If you wish she should preserve for 
" you a constant and unbroken faith, 
" love her always, and love only 
" her: admit no rival in your affec- 
" tions, and I will be answerable for 
" her fidelity." 

Bishop Hough. What, my young 
friend ! still thinking of the Eve, that 
is to adorn your paradise? Do you 
then desire to apply these eight dia- 
mond statues, as foils— all to display 
the greater beauty of one beloved 
object ? and do you not willingly admit, 
that one statue parlante would surpass 
the other eight ? 

Me. Lyttelton. And with 
reason, my Lord : for what is the 
worth of mountains of diamonds, com- 
pared with a pure, spotless, female 
form, illumined by benignity and in- 



134 

telligence, and endowed with an im- 
mortal soul? How should a mere 
inanimate substance be ever capable 
of vying with the display of mind in 
the human countenance ? or what 
brilliancy can gems and senseless matter 
add to the beams of benevolence and 
affection, emitted from the eye of a 
lovely Woman, and diffusing a gleam 
of light on all around her ? They can 
have no unison of character ; but 
instead of adding lustre, must debase 
and contaminate the brightness of 
living beauty, and deteriorate what 
is divine and intellectual. 

Bishop Hough. Do you then ven- 
ture, Mr. Lyttelton, to exclude dia- 
monds from }^our thirty nine articles 
of female attire ? and will not a synod 
of matrons condemn such a doctrine 
as heresy ? 



135 

Mr. Lytt elton. Their matron 
rights, my Lord Bishop, I respect, 
and do not presume to invade. I am 
ready to indulge those who may want 
it, in the glow worm privilege of 
shining in diamonds, and displaying 
that species of lustre, which in vegeta- 
ble nature is generally recognised as 
the symptom of decay. Let them, if 
they prefer it, continue to enjoy the 
costly ornament, which our dramatic 
poet has ascribed to the terrific god- 
dess, Adversity ; 

" Which like the toad, ugly and venemous, 
" Bears yet a precious jewel in its head.'" 

But, that youthful and resistless 
charms should be incumbered by ar- 
mour so unnecessary, I cannot agree. 
A license to wear diamonds should 
never be granted, but as a compensa- 
tion for the loss of youth and beauty. 



136 

Bishop Gibson. Will not, however, 
some of your fair friends, Mr. Lyttel- 
ton, who are attached to these orna- 
ments, be disposed to consider this 
invective against diamonds, as a de- 
fence of your purse ? 

Mr. Lyttelton. If my Eve, as 
the Bishop of Worcester calls her, do 
not think so, I shall be indifferent to 
the opinion of others. 

Bishop Hough. No one who 
knows Mr. Lyttelton, will ever accuse 
him of avarice. — It is a propensity, 
however, which has been sometimes 
imputed to the aged, though I hope 
without justice. That men should 
wish in early or in mature life, to 
provide for extension of years and 
increase of family, may be very na- 
tural : but that an old man, just at his 
journey's end, should submit to be 



137 

incumbered with what he can have no 
possible use for, is to me perfectly 
unaccountable. I must however mea- 
sure my words in what I say about 
avarice, as I have myself a propen- 
sity to hoarding. Whenever I can 
avoid the charge of a new coach, or 
curtail any expense the saving of 
which does not affect others, I accu- 
mulate a little fund for the first public 
or private call that may occur. This 
desire of saving, prevented any in- 
crease in my domestic establishment, 
on my translation to Worcester ; and 
has enabled me to set apart an annual 
sum, in the appropriation of which I 
have no interest, except in the pleasure 
which I derive from the happiness of 
others. 

Mr. Lytt elton. I am indeed 
convinced, that the gratification to be 
derived from beneficence, is of all our 



138 

pleasures the most enviable : and 
therefore I pity those, whom narrow- 
ness of circumstances precludes from 
this enjoyment. 

Bishop Hough. And who, Mr. 
Lyttelton, are they? When the widow's 
mite proved the best and most accept- 
able gift,-— who can plead poverty, as 
an excuse for the neglect of this duty ? 
Something maybe done or contributed, 
even by the most necessitous : more 
will be expected of the rich. In all 
cases, it should bear a proportion to 
the means, and to what can be well 
spared ; and it should not be exercised 
thoughtlessly or lavishly, but with at- 
tention and discrimination. We may 
bestow all our goods to feed the poor, 
and yet have no charity : for this 
listless and unprincipled prodigality of 
bounty, is not only devoid of merit 
as to ourselves, but is frequently in- 



139 

jurious to the very objects of our 
charity. — Professionally, you know, I 
ought to be a friend to tithes. As soon 
therefore as I had any income at all, 
I began by devoting a tenth part of it 
to objects, in which self had no 
concern; and I kept to this little 
proportion, not intending to wrong 
myself or my heirs, by appropriating 
more. I have sometimes, however, 
improved my charitable stock, from 
windfalls on my leases, and by eco- 
nomy in my expenditure. For as this 
fund really affords me more pleasure 
than any other, I catch at any fair 
means of improving it ; and without 
departing from my original propor- 
tion, I have found it (although some- 
times anticipated) in general, equal to 
the calls, which have been made 
upon it. 

Mr. Lyttelton. According; to 



140 

your principle then, my Lord, the 
poor man may be charitable : I wish 
he had also the power of benefiting 
mankind by example. 

Bishop Gibson. And why not, 
Mr. Lyttelton ? If he has a wife and 
children, will they not be better for 
what he may do, or say ? If he has 
relations and neighbours ; may not 
his example extend also to them ? 
And have not they their families and 
friends, who will probably be in- 
fluenced by them ? See then how far 
the light of one individual may extend. 

Bishop Hough. Let me now say 
a few words, about the division and 
employment of my time. — We assem- 
ble in the morning to prayers and 
breakfast, and again at dinner ; and also 
at supper, where if the conversation 
prove interesting, we sometimes linger 



141 

on, unwilling to part, though hoping 
to have the pleasure of meeting the 
next morning as well as we parted. In 
the winter my quadrille party, and in 
the summer my bowling-green, are of 
no small importance to me. The last 
ten or twelve days have been fine ; 
and I have not neglected to make the 
best of them, either by bowling at 
home, or taking the air abroad ; 
which, I thank God, keeps me in 
good health. Let the young have 
their hunters and their tennis-courts, 
provided they envy not me my bowl- 
ing-green, my easy carriage, and my 
quadrille-table. — The spring is to me 
always delightful ; and old as I am, I 
cannot forbear, after the winter's con- 
finement, to peep out as the insects 
do, and see how my little improve- 
ments are advancing. My horses and 
carts have, for some time back, been 
employed in conveying earth to a low 



142 

piece of ground, which, by degrees, 
we have gained from the moat, — a 
tedious work, that shews nothing at 
present but rubbish and disorder : yet 
I flatter myself, that when I have given 
it its projected form, I shall not only 
have got an acre of useful ground, but 
have gained some credit for taste in 
the picturesque. You, Bishop of Lon- 
don, who are prudent and discreet, 
will, I fear, think I have always been 
too fond of brick and mortar. 

Bishop Gibson. I'll confess that I 
have often wondered at your troubling 
yourself so much with building, when 
planting and improving your ground 
would have occupied you with less 
cost or anxiety. 

Bishop Hough. I like planting 
well enough : but I never could make 
my trees grow as fast as my walls do. 



J 43 

Indeed I have been building now for 
above half a century. I begun with 
ray Rectory a Tempsford, just fifty- 
five years ago. The President's apart- 
ment at Magdalen College, and the 
new building there, occupied all my 
spare money and time, till I was trans- 
lated to Litchfield and Coventry, in 
1699. I then found my new episcopal 
residence at Eccleshall in a very pro- 
per state for a building Bishop. In 
fact I almost renewed it ; and I have 
since added a new front to the palace 
at Worcester, and done a good deal 
to this Castle, as it is called, of Hartle- 
bury. I make it a rule, as soon as I 
have finished one work and settled the 
bills, to project another : and if I do 
not immediately announce my inten- 
tions, I hear my old carpenter, with an 
anxious look, say, " My Lord, if you 
do not find us another job, we shall be 
very dull. 3 ' — Perhaps I may have been 



144 

censured, for proceeding in works of 
this sort at my time of day. Some of 
my neighbours may ask, " What pros- 
" pect has this old Bishop of ours, of 
" seeing his projects completed and 
" brought to maturity ?" Others per- 
chance will be more severe, and say, 
that " I should now direct my atten- 
" tion to the earth that is so soon to 
" cover me: that then, all these worldly 
" thoughts will be at an end ; and a 
" man so near the grave as myself, 
" should learn to shake them off, and 
" supply their place with meditations 
" of a different nature/' They would 
require, with Cicero, non minus Otii 
quam negotii rationem eoctare. But Ci- 
cero and Shakespeare were both no- 
torious punsters : and let me observe, 
that occupations of this kind may give 
birth to the most serious thoughts ; 
and that vanity and folly are never 
more out of my head, than when my 



14o 

mind is so occupied. How many 
people derive their amusement from 
vicious propensities ? How many more 
from frivolous and contemptible pur- 
suits? And indeed, can human life 
subsist comfortably, without some re- 
sources of this kind ? My excellent 
mistress, Queen Mary, held the want 
of employment to be the source of all 
evil ; and that any thing that would 
occupy and interest the mind, without 
leaving any dregs of evil behind it, 
ought to fill up those vacant hours, 
that were not claimed by devotion or 
business. She and the ladies of her 
court brought work again into fashion. 
—The object should be, to make our 
occupations not only inoffensive, but 
useful ; and so to manage them, as 
to improve for those who succeed us, 
and to supply employment and food 
for those who are dependant upon us. 
— Excuse me, my dear friends, if I am 
L 



146 

too diffuse. My wish is to suggest some 
of the means which I have adopted, 
to preclude anxiety of mind, and pre- 
serve a constant flow of cheerful and 
pleasing thoughts. 

Mr. Lyttelton. Thank you, my 
dear Lord. You open new light on me, 
by so forcibly displaying the impro- 
priety of cherishing anxious thoughts. 
I shall add to my list, as the eighth 
deadly sin, that of anxiety of mind ; 
and resolve not to be pining and mis- 
erable, when I ought to be grateful 
and happy. 

Bishop Hough. I have endea- 
voured to shew, how mental anxiety 
may be relieved and habitual cheer- 
fulness obtained, — by regular and 
earnest prayer, by social intercourse, 
by entertaining books, by pleasant 
and innocent amusement, and by 



147 

constant employment; so that every 
occupation shall have its hour, and 
every hour its occupation. But there 
is another source of cheerfulness and 
complacency of mind in advanced 
life, which ought not to be forgotten ; 
I mean the pleasure of reflecting during 
the infirmity of age, on the benevolent 
exertions which we have made in the 
active period of life. — What comfort 
will not you always derive, Bishop of 
London, from your endeavours to 
disperse the mists of popery? The 
light which you have thus diffused, 
will shed a lustre round your path, as 
you descend the hill of life.— And 
again, may not you and I, my friend, 
look back with satisfaction, on the 
active share we took, in improving the 
religious knowledge and habits of the 
poor, at the commencement of the 
present century ? Much was then 
done under her Majesty's sanction. 



148 

The effects are already to be traced, 
in the check which has been given to 
that extreme profaneness and immo- 
rality, which had prevailed from the 
time of the restoration ; and a found- 
ation has been laid for a system of 
universal education, extended to 
every individual in the country. In 
all the darkest and most depraved 
ages of the world, ignorance has been 
the source of vice and immorality. 
The soul will not be left vacant 
and unoccupied. To talk of keeping 
evil out of the mind by ignorance is 
idle. You must choose between two 
things. If you do not supply it with 
useful knowledge, — if it be not in- 
structed in virtue and piety, it will 
abound in vice and wickedness. If it 
be not cultivated with good seed, the 
evil spirit will fill the deserted space 
with tares. 



149 

Mr. Lyttelton. The importance 
of a general system of education, ex- 
tended to all classes and ranks of peo- 
ple, has been very strongly impressed 
on my mind by what I saw during my 
travels in Itaty, and by what I have 
read of ancient history. I am now in- 
deed convinced, that if our free con- 
stitution is to be perpetuated, it 
must be by the universal adoption of a 
system of moral and religious instruc- 
tion. History, both ancient and mo- 
dern, proves that liberty is not 
peculiar to any soil or climate ; but the 
offspring of virtue and intelli- 
gence, wherever they fix their abode. 
At the time when Britain was im- 
mersed in ignorance, and bowed its 
head under the yoke of oppression, 
Bologna, Modena, St. Marino, and 
some other parts of Italy were distin- 
guished for science, literature, and 
regulated liberty. On my late visit to 



150 

Italy, I found the great mass of the 
people, in these and other parts, de- 
based and degraded, the victims of 
despotism and ignorance, — while we 
are enjoying the blessings of freedom 
and intelligence. 

Bishop Hough. Our late brother 
Burnet, of Sarum, who was ever a 
true and zealous friend of liberty, has 
justly observed, that " the education 
" of youth is the foundation of all that 
" can be performed for bettering the 
" next age :' and it must be to both 
of us a perpetual gratification, to re- 
flect that we have contributed to this 
unfailing antidote against mortal depra- 
vity. If the voluptuary did but once 
experience the gratification which may 
be derived, from the instruction of the 
ignorant, the relief of necessity, and 
the calming of the anxious and trou- 
bled mind, he would be able to enlarge 



151 

greatly the scope of his enjoyments. 
And here let me observe, that inde- 
pendently of the pleasures of looking 
back on what we have done, a rich 
source of gratification is to be derived 
from the prospective view of the welfare 
of others ; especially when we have 
been so fortunate, as to contribute to 
that welfare. To the aged in parti- 
cular, this interest in the well-being 
of those around them, is of use in 
giving action to the heart, and nou- 
rishment to the lamp of life. It is 
one of the most potent cordials for the 
languor of old age. My wishes and 
hopes may, indeed, sometimes deceive 
me; yet the illusions are so satisfac- 
tory, and the error so grateful to the 
mind, that, for one at least, I cannot 
be persuaded to forego them ; and 
whenever in the poor there is natural 
acuteness, and a pre-disposition to 
piety and the kindly affections, I have 



152 

a real gratification in assisting them 
to rise in the world, as objects of 
excitement to the other poor ; thereby 
promoting among the labouring class, 
more general habits of exertion, in- 
dustry, prudence, and virtue. 

Me. Lytteltojst. I sometimes 
meet with men of fortune, who appear 
to be in good health and of a benevo- 
lent disposition; yet by a constitutional 
languor and weariness of mind are 
unfitted to take an active part in pro- 
moting the welfare of others. Is not 
this, my Lord, a lamentable misfortune? 

Bishop Hough. The Preacher hath 
said, all is vanity. And so it is, 
when man shrinks from his duty, and 
takes no concern— feels no sympathy, 
in the pains and pleasures of his fellow 
creatures. He then finds indeed, that 
" all is vanity and vexation of spirit." 



153 

But when he is at his post — when he 
is strenuously and usefully employed, 
nothing is vain or unsatisfactory: he 
looks with complacency on his present 
occupation, with hope at his future 
prospects.— Insulated and unconnect- 
ed, what would the desendants of 
Adam be ? forlorn and useless beings, 
of all animals the most helpless. Our 
comforts depend on the wants of 
others, and on our own exertions. 
Man is at the same time a social and 
contemplative — a dependant and a 
beneficent being. His scale of hap- 
piness is commensurate to his mutual 
intercourse of benefits, and to the amount 
of good which he confers or receives. 
Whenever that channel is stopped, the 
sources of happiness are obstructed, 
and the dearest charities and enjoy- 
ments of life are suspended. No in- 
dividual exists, but has some allotted 
circle, to which his influence or ex- 



154 

ample may extend; so as to suppty 
him with the social pleasure, of contri- 
buting to the well-being of others. It 
seems to me, therefore, that the sci- 
ence of promotiong more general 
habits of exertion, industry, prudence 
and virtue among our fellow-subjects, 
should be systematically cultivated. 
Institutions should be formed and 
information supplied, particularly for 
the benefit of the idle and the opulent, 
the nervous and the hypochondriac ; to 
enable them to improve their state of 
health, and to enlarge their sphere of 
utility and enjoyment, by the interest 
they might be taught to acquire in the 
happiness of those around them. 

Bishop Gibson. Instruction so 
useful should not be confined to 
middle age. It should be extended to 
the rising generation ; so as to give 
them early habits of being useful to 



155 

themselves and others. In the educa- 
tion of the higher classes of life, there 
is a want of attention to the cherishing 
and promoting of the sympathetic 
affections ; without which, and 
the energy and activity which they 
supply, the human heart is liable to 
become hard and selfish, sensual and 
voluptuous. Besides this, it sometimes 
happens that young persons, born to 
opulence and independence, become 
listless and torpid ; or waste their 
affections on cats, monkies, dogs, and 
parrots, for want of proper objects of 
interest and attachment; and thus 
sow the seeds of satiety and caprice, 
for the annoyance of their future life. 

Bishop Hough. I perfectly agree 
with you ; and have therefore been 
delighted with a little incident, which 
my Kensington correspondent has just 
sent me, of a General Officer whom 



156 

we all love and value. He is left a 
widower, with three young and lovely 
daughters. He has a neighbour, whose 
youngest child, an interesting and 
beautiful girl, has been long suffering 
with cheerful resignation, under a 
painful and hopeless malady : and 
our friend, the General, asked and 
obtained leave of his neighbour, for 
his three girls to make very frequent 
visits to her sick room, as the school of 
sympathy ; where they alternately at- 
tend, as the little nurses of their dear 
invalid ; thus cherishing in their youth- 
ful minds, habits of gratitude for the 
health which they enjoy, and of pity 
for the sufferings of others. 

Mr. Lyttelton. I know the 
General well. The anecdote is quite in 
character. But, my Lord, I have had 
frequent occasion to observe during 
my travels that this sympathy is gene- 



157 

rally increased, in proportion to the 
necessity and helplessness of the ob- 
ject. In the vallies of Switzerland, 
the ideots of that country, under all 
the disadvantages of deformity and 
imbecility, are cherished with extra- 
ordinary kindness and affection : a 
most gratifying instance this of a 
merciful Providence, which, while 
defect of mind or body in the child, 
blights the hope and checks the pride 
of parents and friends, it awakens 
compassion, and increases anxiety for 
its protection and preservation. 

Bishop Hough. Let me now draw 
your attention to another advantage 
of old age ; — its legitimate right to in- 
dulge in ease and leisure, after a life of 
activity and exertion ; with the con- 
sciousness, that this indulgence is then 
as beneficial to health, as in youth it 
is pernicious. When I had nearly 



158 

attained fourscore, I thought myself 
justified in giving up my triennial 
visitations ; not so much on account 
of fatigue, either of travelling or of 
delivering my charges to the clergy, 
as of the numerous confirmations ; 
which were very laborious, and might 
have exhausted a man, even in an 
earlier period of life. I had before 
that, discontinued my attendance in 
Parliament, and my annual visit to the 
Metropolis : and though I have for 
the last twelve years lived almost 
wholly at Hartlebury, yet I do not 
feel myself secluded from the world, 
while I have kind friends to supply 
me with all the interesting events of 
busy life. Indeed I sometimes think 
that I am now better acquainted with 
what is going on in town, than when 
I used to be a resident ; and I interest 
myself more than ever in the progress, 
and matrimonial connections, not only 



159 

of my own friends and relations, but 
of all those families, in whose history 
I conceive the welfare of the commu- 
nity to be implicated. Again, if I do 
not regularly answer letters or dis- 
patch business, I can plead my age, 
and the indulgence to which I am 
entitled. These are saucy infirmities; 
but the plea is allowed by the good 
nature of my friends : — not that I can 
claim to be disabled from writing and 
thinking ; but I may fairly aver that 
neither my head nor nry hand are so 
active as they have been ; and when 
you consider that I am this day en- 
tered on my ninetieth year, I dare say 
you will not wonder at it. 

Bishop Gibson. The only wonder 
to us, Brother, is that your bear it so 
lightly and pleasantly. 

Bishop Hough. My London cor- 



160 

respondents wrote me word last winter, 
that the frost pinched very much in 
town, and that in the country they 
supposed I must feel it in greater ex- 
tremity. I cannot say but that I really 
felt it : but then I had plenty of fuel, 
and I indulged myself freely in the 
use of it ; and this, with the ordinary 
provisions of warm clothes and food, 
fortified me against its rigour ; so that 
the winter passed very gently over my 
head. I am easy both in body and 
mind, and am looking to the end of 
my journey without anxiety. I seldom 
go now, more than three or four miles 
from home ; but am pleased to see you 
and my other friends, and to hear from 
you; and I must do you all the justice 
to say, you do not forget me. What 
infirmities I have, I expected years 
ago. I therefore do by no means com- 
plain of them now; but adore that 
gracious Providence, which has brought 



161 

them upon me gently and insensibly, 
and suffered my life to wear out in 
quiet and easy manner. — Cicero has 
observed, that as the craving for bo- 
dily food is diminished in advanced 
life, the appetite for conversation is 
augmented. I feel the truth of his 
observation ; and in proportion as I 
apprehend the diminution of animal 
gratifications, I endeavour to provide 
intellectual enjoyments to supply the 
place. Thus, as I lose the relish for 
the active and boisterous pleasures of 
youth, I acquire more appetite for the 
tranquil amusements of age; and my 
mental pleasure increases, in propor- 
tion as the sensual appetite is abated. 
In consequence of this, my taste for 
the fine arts and the classics, and my 
delight in the sublime beauties of the 
sacred scriptures, have augmented to 
such a degree during the last thirty 
years, that I seem to have acquired a 
M 



162 

new sense ; supplying a foretaste of 
that existence, where our enjoyments 
shall be spiritual, unchanging, and 
eternal. 

Mr. Lyttelton. My dear Lord, 
you have so warmed yourself with 
your subject, that I am apprehensive 
of your being fatigued and exhausted 
by the excess of your exertions. 

Bishop Hough. Ah no, dear Mr. 
Lyttelton ! the subject can never fa- 
tigue or exhaust me. It is to me a 
source of health and comfort ; and my 
meditations on it produce those effects, 
which Longinus ascribes to the true 
sublime: — " It elevates and affects me, 
" swelling my mind with transport and 
" inward satisfaction, and supplying 
" ideas more enlarged and more ex- 
" alted, than the mere sounds of words 
" can convey/' — You, Mr. Lyttelton, 



163 

would have quoted the original : I can 
only give a transcript of the impression 
left on my mind, when I read it; hav- 
ing been too busy at the age of sixty, 
to follow Cato's example, and to devote 
my time to the study of Greek. — Let 
me here observe to you, that the grati- 
fications, which I now derive from read- 
ing, conversing, and meditating, are of a 
different order from what I formerly 
enjoyed in the active period of life. 
They have a calmness and tranquillity 
annexed to them, which more than 
compensates for the absence of many 
of the hurrying and bustling pleasures 
of youth. The perusal of books, which 
either direct our hopes to future hap- 
piness, or give lightness and gaiety to 
the fleeting hour, — conversation on 
scientific or literary subjects, on the 
events of our past lives, on the scenes 
now acting before us, or on tuture 
prospects, — and meditation on the 



164 

attributes of God, on acts of dutj' 
performed by us, on kindness received 
from others, and on the invisible world 
to which we are approaching,— acquire 
a double relish in old age, and are of 
power to consign to oblivion many of 
its infirmities. — It is at that advanced 
period of life, that the mind looks for- 
ward with anxious expectation to an 
eternity of bliss; and though incapable 
of fixt and permanent contemplation 
on the subject, springs like the unborn 
babe quickening into life, with the con- 
sciousness of the approach of a new 
and unexplored state of existence. 

Bishop Gibson. Assuredly, Bro- 
ther, there cannot be a more animat- 
ing motive to virtue and piety, than the 
prospect of eternal happiness. When- 
ever the arch-fiend — our great enemy 
is most earnest to pervert and corrupt 
us, he labours to erase from the mind 



165 

the hope of immortality : and as 
Dr. South has quaintly expressed it, 
" when once infidelity can persuade 
" men, that they shall die like beasts, 
" they well soon be brought to live like 
" beasts also/' 

Bishop Hough. Yet this hope 
has cheered the heart of man in all 
ages. Some of the wisest and most 
virtuous heathens have, by the mere 
light of nature, perceived that our 
future existence is the only one, de- 
serving the name of life ; and that the 
soul, during its confinement in a mortal 
body, is doomed to a state of penance 
and probation, looking with desire to 
its native seat in heaven. If we con- 
sider the faculties of the mind, the 
rapidity of its conceptions, its recol- 
lection as to the past, its sagacity with 
regard to the future, and its discoveries 



M 

in every branch of art and science, it 
must be evident that this active and 
comprehensive principle cannot be 
corporeal or mortal. " O my sons, 
" (said the dying Cyrus) do not sup- 
" pose that, when I shall be separated 
" from you by death, I shall cease 
" to exist. You beheld not my soul, 
" while I have been with you ; yet 
" you were persuaded of its existence, 
" by the actions you saw me perform. 
" Infer the same, when you see me no 
" more. — I never will be induced to 
" believe, that the soul can properly 
" be said to live, while it remains in 
" this mortal body; or that it will cease 
" to have existence, when death has 
" dissolved the vital union. Neither 
" can I be persuaded, that it will 
" become void of sense, because it has 
" quitted its connection with senseless 
" matter ; or that, on the contrary, its 



167 

" intellectual powers must not be im- 
" proved, when refined from corporeal 
" mixture/' 

Mr. Lyttelton. I have frequently 
admired that passage, my Lord, and 
consider it as one of the most favour- 
able examples of the consolations of 
heathen philosophy. 

Bishop Hough. What, however, 
are these faint glimmerings of unas- 
sisted reason, compared with the di- 
vine light of Revelation, which shineth 
more and more unto the perfect day ? 
— My strength indeed declines and my 
end approaches : but I am most grate- 
ful, that the moderate degree of under- 
standing, which God has been pleased 
to give me, is not impaired ; and I have 
a consoling hope, that when our Sa- 
viour shall come in all his glory to 
judge mankind, you and I, with all 



168 

faithful people, shall through the mercy 
of God, and the merits of our Re- 
deemer, find a place at his right hand. 
What our portion may be in that 
kingdom, is known only to his Father 
and himself: but this is revealed to 
us, that at his right hand are pleasures 
above our conception to all eternity. 
I have no doubt but that I have 
lengthened my life, and preserved my 
health, by the calmness and compo- 
sure which I derive from frequent 
meditation on this subject; for what 
can be more delightful and invigora- 
ting to the mind, than to contemplate 
with the eye of faith, a period now no 
longer distant, when I shall arrive at 
the eternal mansion, where the glory 
of God shall lighten it, and the Lamb 
shall be the light thereof? The earthly 
house of this pilgrimage shall then be 
dissolved, and I shall have a building 
of God, a house not made with hands, 



J 69 

eternal in the heavens ; and shall ex- 
claim with the Apostle, " I have fi- 
" nished my course, I have kept the 
" faith : henceforth there is laid up 
" for me a crown of righteousness, 
" which the Lord, the righteous judge, 
" shall give me at that day/' — The 
sun shall then no more be my light 
by day, neither for' brightness shall 
the moon give light unto me ; but 
the Lord shall be my everlasting 
light, and our God shall be my glory. 
— Nation shall not then lift up sword 
against nation, neither shall they learn 
war any more : for there shall be no 
more death, neither sorrow, nor cry- 
ing ; neither shall there be any more 
pain. — And is not this a subject, my 
dear friends, to awaken all the enthu- 
siasm of gratitude in my breast, and 
abundantly to recompense for the little 
aches and pains, the weaknesses and 
infirmities, of old age ? With these 



170 

contemplations present during the day, 
and always ready to tranquillize my 
waking hours at night, is it wonderful 
that I should, with so little suffering or 
anxiety, have advanced to my ninetieth 
year ? or that I should exclaim, that 
neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor 
principalities, nor powers, — nor things 
present, nor things to come, nor 
heighth, nor depth, nor any other 
creature, shall be able to separate me 
from the love of God, which is in 
Christ Jesus our Lord. — The calm 
and steadjr perseverance, with which 
the martyrs for our faith in the times 
of primitive Christianity, and the 
victims of bigotry in our latter days, 
have endured all the torments which 
malice and ingenuity could invent 
and inflict, has ever been a subject of 
admiration and astonishment to the 
world. If, however, we reflect that 
(like as to the Proto-Martyr Stephen, 



171 

when he looked stedfastly into Heaven, 
and saw the glory of God, and Jesus 
standing on the right hand of God\ 
these contemplations must have been 
present to the mind ; and that they 
then anticipated with hope and faith, 
the blessed regions to which they were 
immediately advancing, and the glory 
and felicity prepared for them, — their 
steadfastness and constancy become 
less matter of wonder. It was this 
Christian hope, this foretaste of the 
bliss of Paradise, which enabled the 
expiring martyr, Maccail, to ex- 
claim, " Farewell sun, moon, and stars ; 
" farewell kindred and friends, — fare- 
" well world and time, — farewell weak 
" and frail body : — welcome eternity, 
« — welcome Angels and Saints, — 
" welcome Saviour of the World, 
" and welcome God, the Judge of all." 

Let us now advert to another 

source of gratification ; that we shall 



172 

enjoy in our spiritual state, a degree of 
knowledge, surpassing the glimmer- 
ings of this mortal state, far more than 
the matured wisdom of man exceeds 
the imperfect views of infancy; so that 
not only all the secret recesses of na- 
tural knowledge, in which Boyle, 
Newton, Becher, St ahl, and Hale, 
have in our time been labouring with 
such successful assiduity, shall be then 
opened to our wondering eyes, — but 
that which has baffled all human skill, 
and has been the perpetual source of 
error, whenever man — weak man has 
attempted to pass beyond the express 
words of Revelation — the immutable 
nature and wisdom of the moral system 
of God's government in this nether 
world — will be open to our compre- 
hension. New sources of the bene- 
volent affections, new motives for 
gratitude and devotion to the giver 
of all good, and new inletS of intellec- 



173 

tual pleasure, will be supplied to the 
wondering and enraptured mind ; and 
we shall then know, even as we are 
known. Looking therefore to the ex- 
tension of the knowledge which we 
now enjoy, while we are viewing with 
wonder this minute part of creation, 
what will be our delight, in perpetually 
discovering innumerable evidences of 
the divine power and wisdom, ex- 
emplified in new worlds, in new pro- 
perties of matter, and in new uses and 
benefits to which created nature is 
made subservient, for the good of his 
creatures? — Again, as to one of the 
sources of enjoyment, — who is so blind, 
who has so little of intellectual feeling, 
as not to have experienced the delight 
of contemplating an intelligent and 
benevolent mind, addressing itself to 
the heart, through the features of a 
beautiful face? What then must be 
our pleasure in those heavenly man- 



174 
sions, to contemplate purity, and 

TRUTH, AND KINDNESS AND BENE- 
VOLENCE, no longer in mouldering 
forms of clay, but personified in glori- 
ous and incorruptible bodies, restored 
to what had been lost by the disobe- 
dience of our common ancestor, and 
increasing in splendour and perfection 
to all eternity ? Great indeed, and 
beyond all expression, is the difference 
between such a state of intellectual 
happiness, and the sensual Paradise 
of Mahomet : and looking to the ele- 
vating and spiritualising of our kindly 
affections, as the means of unceasing 
gratification, futile is that Philosophy 
— (I speak not of the disgusting sen- 
suality of Epicurus, but of the more 
elevated Doctrine of the Portico) — 
which, hopeless to regulate the passions 
and affections of man, has attempted 
to extinguish them ; and instead of pu- 
rifying the human heart, has endea- 



175 

voured to deprive it of all its greatest 
and most valuable enjoyments, — of 

LOVE, JOY, SYMPATHY, HOPE, AND 

gratitude; producing, not the 
beauty of order or the calm of tran- 
quillity, but the solitude of inaction 
and the dreary stillness of death. The 
reverse of all this is to be found in the 
Philosophy of Revelation ; which 
leaves in full energy and vigour the 
nobler passions, the kindly affections, 
and all our most exquisite feelings, — 
implicated as they are with a thousand 
tender connections of Wife, Parent, 
Child, Brother, Sister, Relative, and 
Friend, — given us for the noblest and 
dearest purposes by our omniscient 
Creator; and at the same time that 
it divests them of every base and 
selfish motive, directs them to a warm 
and disinterested love of God and 
man ; enabling them, according to 
the extent of their power, to promote 



176 

the glory of the one, and the happi- 
ness of the other,— and diffusing the 
effects of their kindness in concentric 
circles ; commencing with their nearest 
relatives and friends, and extending to 
the whole race of man, and from thence 
to every part of animated existence. — 
Connected with these benevolent feel- 
ings, will be another source of happi- 
ness, when we exchange this mortal 
and corruptible, for a glorified and 
immortal body; — our re-union with 
all those friends, whose virtue and 
piety make their friendship truly de- 
sirable. Then may I hope again to 
rejoin my beloved wife; of whose value 
a separation of near twenty years has 
only made me more sensible, and 
whom from thenceforth I shall call — 
for ever— ever mine. We shall then too, 
be united to the pious and virtuous of 
all ages, and of all countries. We shall 
come unto Mount Sion, and unto the 



177 

City of the living God, the heavenly 
Jerusalem ; and to an innumerable 
company of Angels, — to the general 
Assembly and Church of the first born, 
which are written in heaven, — and to 
God, the Judge of all,— and to the 
spirits of just men made perfect, — and 
to Jesus, the Mediator of the new 
Covenant. We shall approach the 
throne of him, who liveth for ever and 
ever ; who is worthy to receive glory, 
and honour, and power ; for he hath 
created all things, and for his pleasure 
they are, and were created. We shall 
then all unite in that new song, " Wor- 

" THY IS THELAMB,THATWAS SLAIN, 
" TO RECEIVE POWER, AND RICHES, 
" AND WISDOM, AND STRENGTH, AND 
" HONOUR, AND GLORY, AND BLES- 

" sing ;" saying with all nations, and 
kindreds, and people, and tongues, 
" Salvation to our God which 

N 



178 

" sitteth upon the throne, and 
" to the Lamb, for ever and 

" EVER." 



NOTES, 



AND BIOGRAPHICAL 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



NOTES 

AND BIOGRAPHICAL 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page 8, line 5. 

Bishop Hough was born on the 12th 
of April 1651, and educated at Magdalen 
College, Oxford, of which he was after- 
wards a Fellow. Mr. Hough took orders 
in 1675; and in 1678, was appointed Do- 
mestic Chaplain to the Duke of Ormond, 
then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. After his 
return, he was in 1685 made Prebendary 



182 HOUGH. 

of Worcester, and Rector of Tempsford in 
the county of Bedford. Upon the vacancy 
of the Presidentship of Magdalen College 
in 1687, James the Second, by Letters 
mandatory to the Fellows, recommended 
Mr. Farmer, a Papist, and otherwise dis- 
qualified by the Statutes of the College. 
With this mandate the Fellows did not 
comply : but elected Mr. Hough ; who 
was admitted and sworn in by Dr. Mews, 
Bishop of Winchester, the Visitor of the 
College. The King's Commissioners for 
Ecclesiastical affairs declared the election 
void : and (there being objections to 
Farmer's character) the King recommend- 
ed another Papist, Dr. Parker, Bishop of 
Oxford and Dean of Christ Church, to the 
Presidentship. This being also unanimously 
declined by the Fellows, on the ground that 
the office was full and the election con- 
trary to the Statutes of the College, the 
King appointed three Commissioners spe- 
cially to visit the College ; before whom 
Dr. Hougir, attended by the Fellows, ap- 
peared and defended with great firmness 



HOUGH. 188 

their collegiate rights. Notwithstanding 
his protest against their proceedings, and 
his appeal to the King in his Courts of 
Justice, they proceeded to deprive him 
of the Presidentship, and to remove him 
by force from his situation in the College, 
On twenty-five of the Fellows, refusing to 
subscribe their submission to the illegal 
acts of the commissioners, they were in 
November 1687, deprived of their Fellow- 
ships, for disobedience and contempt of 
the Royal Authority ; and declared inca- 
pable of any ecclesiastical dignity, benefice, 
or promotion. In the October following, 
however, the immediate terror of the in- 
vasion of the Prince of Orange, produced 
a Royal Mandate, for restoring Mr. Hough 
and the Fellows to their offices. After 
the Revolution, Dr. Hough was appointed 
Bishop of Oxford in 1690, and in 1692 
was promoted to the Bishoprick of Lich- 
field and Coventry. On the death of 
Archbishop Tenison in 1715, he was of- 
fered the Archbishopric of Canterbury, 
which he very modestly declined ; but 



184 GIBSON. 

two years after, he accepted the See of 
Worcester, to which he was translated 
on the death of Bishop Lloyd. In 1702 the 
Bishop had married Lady Lee, the widow 
of Sir Charles Lee ; with whom he lived 
very happily twenty years. She died in 
November 1722, deeply and permanently 
regretted by him. His Life has been lately 
published, with some of his letters, by Mr. 
Wilmot. From this Work, I have selected 
the anecdotes and circumstances, which I 
have referred to in the preceding dialogue. 
The Bishop died on the 8th of May 1743, 
in his ninety-third year. 

Page 9, line 3. 

Bishop Gibson had been at that time 
employed in compiling and publishing, in 
three folio volumes, a collection of the 
Treatises against Popery, with prefaces 
and observations of his own. — He was born 
in 1669, at Knipe in Westmorland ; was 
admitted a Servitor at Queen's College 
Oxford, and some time afterwards ap- 



GIBSON. 185 

pointed domestic Chaplain to Archbishop 
Tenison. He was a man of great erudition, 
and author of many learned and pious 
tracts ; and among others of an excellent 
and useful explanation of the Sacrament of 
the Lord's Supper, and of the duty of fre- 
quent attendance on it. Jn 1713 he pro- 
duced his Codex, containing an accurate 
and judicious commentary on the English 
ecclesiastical law. Soon after the death 
of Archbishop Tenison in 1715, he was 
consecrated Bishop of Lincoln ; and in 
1720, he succeeded Dr. Robinson in the 
See of London. He was from principle, a 
zealous friend of the Church establishment. 
For some years, Sir Robert Walpole had 
placed in his hands the conduct of eccle- 
siastical affairs in England ; until, in 1736, 
he very strongly opposed Sir Robert's Bill 
for the relief of the Quakers. The See of 
Canterbury was offered him in 1747 : but 
he declined it on account of his age and 
infirmities, and died in the beginning of the 
next year, at the age of seventy-nine. 



186 LYTTELTON. 

Page 9, line 5. 

Mr. Lyttelton, afterwards George 
Lord Lyttelton, was the eldest son of Sir 
Thomas Lyttelton. He was born in 1709, 
and educated at Eton and Christ Church ; 
in both of which he was distinguished for 
talent and application. In 1728, he set off 
on his travels ; and on his return to Eng- 
land obtained a seat in Parliament, where 
he took a leading part in the opposition to 
Sir Robert Walpole. In 1741 he married 
Lord Fortescue's sister, Miss Lucy For- 
tescue, whose death in 1747, he made the 
subject of a laboured and pathetic monody 
to her memory. In 1749 he married for 
his second wife, the daughter of Sir Robert 
Rich. On the resignation of Walpole in 
the year 1744, he came into office as a 
Lord of the Treasury; was appointed 
Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1755, and 
created a Peer in 1757. He died in August 
1773, aged 64. — In the early part of his 
life, he had been led to entertain doubts 
of the truth of Christianity : but upon a 



LYTTELTON. 187 

serious investigation of this most important 
of all questions, he became a zealous be- 
liever; and in 1747, published his " Ob- 
" servations on the conversion and apos- 
tleship of St. Paul." His father's letter to 
him on the subject of this work is very inte- 
resting : " I have read your religious treatise 
" with infinite pleasure and satisfaction. The 
" stile is fine and clear ; the arguments 
" close, cogent, and irresistible. May the 
ec King of Kings, whose glorious cause you 
" have so well defended, reward your 
" pious labours, and grant that I may be 
" found worthy, through the merits of 
" Jesus Christ, to be an eye-witness of that 
" happiness, which I don't doubt he will 
" bountifully bestow upon you ! In the 
" mean time, I shall never cease glorifying 
" God, for having endowed you with such 
e( useful talents, and given me so good a 
" son. Your affectionate father, Thomas 
" Lyttelton." — His death was exem- 
plary ; and on his part expected with calm 
and devout resignation. Two days before 
he died, he said to his physician, — " When 



188 LYTTELTON. 

" I first set out in the world, I had friends 
" who endeavoured to shake my belief in 
" the Christian Religion. 1 saw difficul- 
" ties which staggered me ; but I kept my 
" mind open to conviction The evidences 
" and doctrines of Christianity, studied 
" with attention, made me a most firm and 
" persuaded believer of the Christian Reli- 
" gion; I have made it the rule of my life, 
" and it is the ground of my future hopes. 
" I have erred and sinned ; but have re- 
" pented, and never indulged any vicious 
ei habit. In politics, and public life, I 
" have made the public good the rule of 
" my conduct. I never gave counsels, 
" which I did not at the time think the 
" best. I have seen that I was sometimes 
" in the wrong, but I did not err design - 
e( edly. I have endeavoured, in private life, 
u to do all the good in my power; and 
" never, for a moment, could indulge mali- 
cc cious or unjust designs upon any person 
Ci whatsoever.'' To his son-in-law, Lord 
Valentia (the present Earl of Mountnorris) 
he said, on taking leave of him, — (< Be 



REVELATION. 189 

good, be virtuous, my lord. You must 
come to this." 



Page 25, line 11. 

Bishop Gibson, in his first pastoral letter, 
has thus enumerated the evidences of re- 
vealed religion. — c There are many sorts of 
' proofs, by which the truth of Christianity 
e is supported ; as 1, types. 2, prophecies. 

' 3, The GENERAL EXPECTATION of CHRIST'S 

' coming at that time. 4, The miracles 
' he wrought. 5, His predictions of his 
1 own death and resurrection, and of many 
' other events which were punctually ful- 
i filled ; and 6, The speedy and wonderful 
' propagation of the gospel after his death.' 
— -The Bishop might have added the state 
of the Jews, since the predicted destruction 
of Jerusalem, scattered and dispersed for a 
period of more than seventeen hundred 
years among all nations ; yet still existing 
and known as a distinct people, and mi- 
nutely adhering to the ceremonial law of 
Moses. — The passage in the dialogue, to 



190 MARLBOROUGH. 

which this note refers, is to be found in Mr. 
Wilberforce's Practical View. 

Page 37, line 18. 

John Churchill Duke of Marlborough, 
eldest son of Sir Winston Churchill, was 
born in 1650. He entered very early into 
the army ; and served with distinction 
under the Duke of Monmouth, in the 
French Campaign against the Dutch, in 
1672. He was created an English Peer in 
1685 ; but on measures being adopted, 
hostile to civil and religious liberty, he 
withdrew from Court, and afterwards, in 
1688, joined the Prince of Orange. King 
William created him Earl of Marlborough, 
and appointed him Commander in Chief 
of the English forces in Holland : but in 
a short time after, he was disgraced, and 
committed to the Tower for high treason. 
Of this charge he was almost immediately 
acquitted ; and was restored by the King to 
confidence and employment. On the acces- 
sion of Queen Anne, in March 1701, he 



MARLBOROUGH. 191 

was declared Captain General of her 
Majesty's forces, and also of thsoe of the 
States General. The War with France 
was proclaimed in May 1702 ; in which he 
commanded with great success, and was 
rewarded by the title of Duke of Marlbo- 
rough. In 1704, he undertook, by the 
Queen's command, the defence of Ger- 
many ; and being joined by Prince Eugene, 
saved the Empire, defeating the French 
and Bavarians in a signal victory at Blen- 
heim ; their Commander, Marshal Tal- 
lard, being taken prisoner, with the loss of 
40,000 veteran troops. He afterwards 
defeated the French at Ramillies. This 
was followed by other victories and by 
the submission of several strong towns 
and fortresses. In October 1706, the 
French made proposals for Peace ; which 
were renewed in the beginning of 1709, 
but not being agreed to, he again defeated 
the French army, under Marshal Villars, 
at Malplaquet. In 1711, having lost the 
friendship and confidence of the Queen, he 
and the Dutchess resigned their employ- 



192 SOMERS. 

ments, and went abroad in 1712. He 
returned very soon after the Queen's death, 
which happened on the first of August, 
1714. The rest of his life he spent in 
retirement; and died on the 16th!June, 
1722, in his 73rd year. 

Page 39, line 13. 

Lord Somers was born at Worcester in 
1652 ; educated at a private school in 
Staffordshire, and admitted a Gentleman 
Commoner at Trinity College, Oxford. 
He was of the Middle Temple, where he 
continued his literary pursuits, at the same 
time applying very assiduously to the study 
of the law. In 1683, he was counsel for 
Lord Gray and others, who were prose- 
cuted by the Crown for a riot ; and in 
1688, Counsel for the seven Bishops. In 
the convention of 1689, he represented his 
native city of Worcester ; and was one of 
the Managers for the House of Commons, 
on the conference with the House of Lords. 
Soon after the accession of William and 
Mary, he was appointed Solicitor General, 



SOMERS. lyd 

received the honour of knighthood, and 
took a leading part in the debate on the 
Bill for confirming the acts of the conven- 
tion. In April 1692 he was made Attorney 
General, and soon after, Lord Keeper; 
and in 1697, he was appointed Lord Chan- 
cellor, and elevated to the Peerage by the 
title of Lord Somers, Baron of Evesham. 
To support his title, the King granted him 
the Manors of Ryegate and Howlegh, toge- 
ther with ,£2100, per annum out of his Fee- 
farm Rents. In 1700 he was removed from 
his appointment, and in the next year, im- 
peached of high crimes and misdemeanours 
by the House of Commons, but on his trial 
acquitted by the House of Lords. He then 
devoted himself to science and literature, 
and was soon after elected President of the 
Royal Society. In 1706, sometime after the 
accession of Queen Anne, he projected 
and proposed the union between England 
and Scotland. He was made Lord Presi- 
dent of the Council in 1708 ; but in 1710, 
removed upon the change of the Ministry. 
He died in April 1716, at the age of sixty- 
CD 



194 



WREN. 



four. — He was one of the first, who brought 
Milton's " Paradise Lost" from obscurity 
into notice. Few men have been more 
praised and respected than Lord Somers. 
' He was (says Mr. Horace Walpole) 
i one of those divine men, who, like a 
c Chapel in a palace, remain unprofaned, 
' while all the rest is tyranny, corruption, 
1 and folly. All the traditional accounts of 
' him, the historians of the last age, and its 
c best authors, represent him as the most 
f incorrupt lawyer and the honestest States- 
* man ; as a master orator, a genius of the 
c finest taste, and as a patriot of the noblest 
' and most extensive views ; as a man 
1 who dispensed blessings by his life, and 
' planned them for posterity.' 

Page 40, line 14. 

Sir Christopher Wren was distin- 
guished as a Mathematician and an Ar- 
chitect. He was born in 1632; and 
became the Savilian Professor of Astro- 
nomy at Oxford, where he had received 



WALLER. 195 

his education. In 1668, he was appointed 
Surveyor General of the Royal Works, 
which office he held for fifty years. The 
Theatre at Oxford, Trinity College Library, 
Greenwich Hospital, the Steeple of Bow- 
Church, and St. Stephen's Walbrook, are 
among the examples of his skill in archi- 
tecture. He built 53 churches in the me- 
tropolis : but his great work was the Ca- 
thedral of St. Paul's ; the first stone of 
which was laid in June 1675, and the 
body finished, and the cross erected by 
him, in 1711. He died in February 1723, 
at the age of ninety one. 

Page 40, line 19. 

Mr. Waller was born in 1605; received 
his education at Eton, from whence he went 
to King's College, Cambridge. He took 
his seat in the House of Commons, before 
the age of seventeen. In 1640, he joined 
the Parliament against the Court ; but on 
matters being pushed to extremities, he 
engaged in an attempt in the King's favour : 



196 WALLER. 

and being discovered, purchased his life 
by great concessions, — being expelled the 
House, imprisoned for a year, and allowed 
to quit the kingdom on payment of a fine 
often thousand pounds. He then retired 
to France ; from whence he afterwards 
returned to England with permission of 
Cromwell, and was in a degree of favour. 
On the Restoration, he was kindly received 
by Charles the Second, and resumed his 
seat in Parliament, when he became (as 
Bishop Burnet expresses it) ' the delight of 
6 the House, and though old, said the liveliest 
' things of any among them.' Being pre- 
sent once, when the Duke of Buckingham 
was paying his court to the King, by 
arguing against Revelation, Mr. Waller 
said " My Lord, I am a great deal older 
" than your Grace ; and have, I believe, 
<c heard more arguments for atheism, than 
Cf ever your Grace did ; but I have lived 
" long enough to see there is nothing in 
" them : and so, I hope, your Grace will.' 
He died in 1687, in his eighty-third year. 



NEWTON. 197 

Page 40, line 22. 

Sir Isaac Newton was born on Christ- 
mas-day 1642 ; educated at the Grammar 
School at Grantham, and entered at Trinity 
College Cambridge in 1660, where he very 
soon distinguished himself. In 1664, at 
the age of twenty-two, he produced his new 
method of infinite Series and Fluxions, and 
soon after, his Theory of Light and Colours. 
In 1669, he was appointed Mathematical 
Professor of the University. In February 
1672, he published his Theory of Light 
and Colours, and in 1687, his Principia, 
and his mathematical principles of u Na- 
tural History." He was elected of the 
Convention Parliament in 1688, and in 
1696, appointed Warden, and in 1699, 
Master of the Mint. In 1703, he was 
chosen President of the Royal Society ; 
which situation, as well as the office of 
Master of the Mint, he held till his death. 
In 1704, he published his method of Flux- 
ions. In 1725, he was engaged in a 
scientific contest with Leibnitz, which, in 



198 CLEMENT THE TWELFTH. 

spite of his desire to avoid disputes, ter- 
minated only with his valuable life, in 
March 1727, in his eighty-fifth year. 



rage 



42, line 3. 



Clement the Twelfth, of the Corsini 
family at Florence, was born 7th of April 
1652, and made Cardinal in May 1706. In 
August 1730, then in his seventy-ninth 
year, he was elected Pope. On his 
election, and before his Coronation, several 
of the Cardinals offered him advice on the 
state of public affairs, to which he answered 
shortly, "It is for the Cardinals to elect 
" the Pope, and for the Pope to choose his 
" Ministers." 

Page 42, line 15. 

Marshal Villa rs was born in May 
1651. He served under Marshals Tu- 
renne, Conde, Schomberg and Crequy ; 
and distinguished himself so much, as to 
obtain a regiment at the age of twenty- 



V I L L A R S. 199 

three. During the wars of Lewis the 
XIV. he continued in very active service ; 
and in the short intervals of peace in 1679 
and 1696, went as Ambassador to Vienna. 
On the death of his Father in 1698, he suc- 
ceeded to the Dukedom of Villars : he had 
been appointed Field Marshal in 1689, 
and Marshal of France in 1702. In 1709, 
and the two succeeding years, he was op- 
posed to the Duke of Marlborough by his 
sovereign, who counted on the circumstance 
of Villars never having been beaten ; and 
though he was defeated by the Duke at 
Malplaquet, yet he supported the contest so 
ably, as to induce the English Court to treat 
for peace ; which was signed at Utrecht, 
in April 1718. In October 1733, when 
the Marshal was in his eighty-third year, 
he was solicited to take the command of 
the French army in Italy, in defence of 
the Sardinian territory ; and was appointed 
Marshal General of France. In ten days 
after, he reached Turin on the sixth of 
November; where he joined the King of 
Sardinia, and proceeded with such vigour 



200 VILLARS. 

and expedition against the enemy, as to 
drive the imperial army out of the Milanese, 
the Lodisan, and part of the Duchy of 
Mantua, in the course of the next month, 
December. The Marshal then proposed 
to pursue their success, as the means of 
keeping the enemy in check, and prevent- 
ing his recovering himself. The King of 
Sardinia, however ; satisfied with his suc- 
cess, withheld his concurrence. As they 
were examining the position of the imperial 
army, being at a distance from their own 
and with a small escort, they found them- 
selves exposed to the attack of a much 
larger party of the enemy. The King 
expressed his fear of an ambuscade ; when 
Villars cried out, " II ne faut songer qu'a 
" sortir de ce pas. La vraie valeur ne 
" trouve rien d 'impossible. 11 faut par 
" notre exemple, donner du courage a 
" ceux qui pourroient manquer." Saying 
this, the Marshal charged the enemy at 
the head of his little troop : they fled as- 
tonished, leaving fifty men dead on the field, 
and thirty prisoners. The King said, he 



FLEURY. 201 

had not been surprised at his courage, but 
at his vigour and activity. He replied, 
u Sire, ce sont les dernieres etincelles de 
" ma vie, car je crois, que c'est ici la der- 
" niere operation de guerre, ou je me 
" trouverai." — Disgusted with the inactivity 
and ingratitude of the Sardinian Monarch, 
he solicited his recal ; and quitting the 
camp on the 27th of May 1734, went to 
Turin ; where, a few days after, he died, on 
the 17th of June 1734, in his eighty-fourth 
year. 

Page 47, line 8. 

Cardinal Fleury was the son of a 
receiver of tithes in Languedoc, and born 
in 1653. He was educated under the 
Jesuits, in the school of Harcourt, where 
he soon distinguished himself by his talent 
and address. In 1668, at the age of fifteen, 
he was appointed a Canon of Montpel- 
lier ; and, five years after, Chaplain to the 
Queen, and on her death, Chaplain to 
Lewis the XIV. In 1689, he was selected 
to be Subpreceptor to the Duke of Bur- 



202 FLEURY. 

gundy and his two brothers, Fenelon being 
the Preceptor. He was promoted to the 
See of Frejus in 1698, and on the death of 
Lewis the XIV. in 1715, became Preceptor 
to his Sovereign, Lewis XV. over whose 
mind he ever preserved a great degree of 
personal influence. In June 1726, he 
succeeded the Duke of Bourbon, as Prime 
Minister ; and was soon after nominated a 
Cardinal, being then in his 74th year. 
With the most conciliating manners, he 
was sincere and honourable in his conduct ; 
and for a period of fourteen years, from 
1726 to 1740, he had the happiness of 
contributing very essentially to the Peace 
and prosperity of France. The three last 
years of his administration were unfortunate, 
On the death of the Emperor Charles the 
Sixth in 1740, without male issue, a war 
ensued respecting the imperial succession ; 
the calamitous events of which preyed on 
the Cardinal's mind, and occasioned his 
death in 1743, at the advanced age of ninety. 






WALPOLE. 203 

Page 47, line 19. 

Sir Robert Walpole, third son of 
Robert Walpole esquire of Houghton in 
the County of Norfolk, was born in August 
1676 ; came into Parliament in 1701, and 
united with the Whig Party. In 1705, he 
was appointed Secretary at War, and in 
1709, Treasurer of the Navy ; but on the 
change of ministry in 1710, was dismissed 
from office ; and an inquiry into his conduct 
as Secretary at War, instituted by the new 
administration; which, in January 1712, 
prevailed so far as to expel him the 
House, and commit him to the Tower. In 
February 1714, on a new Parliament being 
called, he was re-elected ; on the acces- 
sion of George I. in September 1714, he 
was appointed Paymaster of the Forces ; 
and, in October 1715, first Lord of the 
Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer. 
On the removal of Lord Townshend, as 
Secretary of State, in December 1716, Sir 
Robert Walpole resigned his situation at 
the head of the Treasury ; to which offices 



204 SANCROFT. 

they were afterwards both restored in April 
1721. From that time he continued in full 
power as Prime Minister, for 21 years, 
until 1742 ; when the Opposition prevailing 
against him in Parliament, he resigned all 
his appointments, was created Earl of 
Orford, and retired to his seat at Houghton ; 
where he died in 1745, in his 71st year. 



Page 50, line 17. 

Dr. William Sancroft was born in 
1616. In 1642, he was elected Fellow of 
Emanuel College Cambridge ; from which, 
in 1649, he was ejected as a loyalist, for 
refusing to take the engagement. He then 
went abroad, where he continued till the 
Restoration. On his return he was, in 1662, 
elected Master of Emanuel College ; and 
in 1664, promoted to the Deanery of York ; 
and soon after, to the Deanery of St. Paul's. 
He assisted in revising the Liturgy, in 1661; 
and afterwards contributed very liberally 
to the rebuilding of St. Paul's Cathedral, 
after the great fire in 1666. He was, In 



SANCROFT. 205 

1677, unexpectedly advanced by Charles 
II. to the See of Canterbury. In the reign 
of James II. he took a very decided part 
against the measures, adopting for the re- 
establishment of Popery ; and upon the 
King's issuing a declaration in favour of 
the Papists, in June 1688, he joined with 
six of the Bishops, in a petition to the King, 
assigning the reasons why they could not 
cause it to be read in churches. For this 
petition, the Archbishop and the six Bishops 
were committed to the Tower, and tried for 
a misdemeanor ; but acquitted. He soon 
after brought forward a plan for the relief of 
Protestant dissenters. He was pressed by 
King James, to sign the Declaration against 
the Prince of Orange ; but he declined it, 
and in December 1688, joined with the 
Lords in the Declaration to the Prince. 
When the Prince came to St. James's, 
however, the Archbishop did not wait on 
him, nor did he attend the Convention 
Parliament. In this he was influenced by 
a conscientious regard to the oath of alle- 
giance, which he had taken to James the II.; 



206 SANCROFT. 

which determined him to refuse taking any 
new oaths to William and Mary. For this 
refusal he was, with seven other Bishops, 
deprived in February 1689; and being 
ejected from Lambeth by process of law, 
he retired to his paternal estate of ,£50. a 
year in Suffolk ; where he lived in great 
seclusion until his death in 1693, at the age 
of T7. Dr. Turner, Dr. Kenn, and Dr. 
White (three of the six Bishops committed 
with him to the Tower) were also of the 
number of those, deprived at the same 
time with Sancroft. Lord Aylesbury cal- 
ling at his lodgings, just after his depriva- 
tion, was very much affected by seeing that 
he had no attendant, but was obliged to 
open the door himself. " Oh, my good 
" Lord," cried Sancroft; " rather rejoice 
" with me ; for now I live again." The 
Rev. Mr. Wagstaff, who attended Dr. 
Sancroft in his last illness, observed that 
any man might read the pleasure in his 
breast, by the constant serenity and cheer- 
fulness of his aspect. ' It was indeed (he 
' adds) an unspeakable comfort and satis- 



ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. 207 

6 faction to us, and we reflected on the 
4 mighty power of a well-spent life. Draw- 
• ing near his end, he said, " that his pro- 
" fession was real and conscientious ; and 
" that if the same thing was to be acted 
" over again, he would quit all he had 
" IN the world, rather than violate his 

" CONSCIENCE. 

Page 57, line 15. 

As a companion to Pliny's Diary of Spu- 
rinna, the reader may perhaps like to 
peruse the following account of Archbishop 
Fenelon's arrangement of his day, given in 
the abridged history of his Life, by Mr. 
Butler : — He allowed himself a short time 
for sleep, rose at a very early hour, gave 
some time to prayer and pious meditation, 
and then arranged with one of his grand 
vicars, the employments of the day. Except 
on Saturdays, or on festivals particularly 
celebrated in some Church of his diocese, 
when he officiated there, he said mass 
every day in his private chapel. On Sa- 



208 ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. 

turdays, he said it in his Metropolitan 
Church ; and, during the rest of that morn- 
ing, heard indiscriminately the confessions of 
all who presented themselves. Till nine 
o'clock, he was visible to those only, who 
attended by appointment ; after that hour 
till he dined, his doors were open to all 
persons, who professed to have real business 
with him. At noon, he dined : his table 
was suitable to his rank ; but he himself 
was extremely abstemious, eating only the 
simplest and lightest food, and of that very 
sparingly. All his chaplains were admitted 
to his table. It was his general rule to 
shew them the greatest respect : if he sent 
them into the country, on any business of 
his diocese, it was always in one of his 
own carriages, and with one of his own 
attendants ; that the respect, which he 
shewed them, might conciliate to them the 
general respect of his flock. Both before 
and after dinner, lie himself said grace with 
seriousness, but without affectation. During 
dinner, the conversation was general , and 
strangers were struck equally with its ease 






ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. 209 

and politeness. After dinner, all the com- 
pany retired to a large apartment for about 
an hour : there the same style of conversa- 
tion was continued ; but a small table was 
sometimes placed before Fenelon, on which 
he signed his name to papers, which re- 
quired immediate dispatch ; and he some- 
times took that opportunity, of giving direc- 
tions to his chaplains on the affairs of the 
diocese. An hour was spent in this man- 
ner ; after which, unless he was prevented 
by urgent business or necessary visits, he 
lived to himself till nine o'clock : then he 
supped, and at ten the whole of his house- 
hold assembled, and one of his chaplains 
said night prayers ; at the end of them, 
the Archbishop rose, and gave his general 
blessing to the assembly. — The only re- 
creation of Fenelon, was a walk in his 
garden or in the open country, His letters, 
like those of Cicero, often express the sa- 
tisfaction which he felt in retiring, after the 
agitation and hurry of business, to the 
simple and interesting scenes of nature. 
By their stillness and calmness, any ruffle of 



210 ARRANGEMENT OF TIME. 

the day was quickly smoothed ; and his 
mind, wearied by study or business , soon 
recovered its freshness and elasticity. There 
too, his piety was often invigorated. ' ; The 
iC country (the Archbishop says in one of 
" his letters) delights me. In the midst 
" of it, I find God's holy peace. Oh, what 
"excellent company is God! With him 
" one never is alone." — In his country 
walks with his friends, his conversation 
was particularly instructive and pleasing : 
this circumstance is frequently mentioned 
by his contemporaries. ic No person (says 
u the Duke de St. Simon) ever possessed in 
Ci a higher degree than Fenelon, the happy 
" talent of easy, light, and ever decent 
u conversation : it was perfectly enchant- 
" ing His mild, uniform piety troubled 
ee no one, and was respected by all."- — Fe- 
nelon passed his last eighteen years at his 
diocese in his official duties, and in the 
exercise of Christian charity and kind- 
ness; and died, as he lived, respected and 
beloved. 



QUEEN MARY. 211 

Page 72, line 16. 

Queen Mary, wife of William the III. 
was the eldest daughter of James II. She 
was born on the 30th of April 1662, and 
married to William, then Prince of Orange, 
on the 4th of November 1677. In conse- 
quence of the Revolution, which seated her 
husband on the throne of her father, her 
situation was rendered peculiarly delicate 
and distressing ; particularly during the war 
in Ireland, when her husband and father 
were personally opposed to each other, and 
while she was agitated by ardent wishes 
for the success of the one, and by extreme 
solicitude for the safety of the other. Her 
feelings are beautifully expressed in the let- 
ters which she addressed to her husband at 
that time. In her congratulations to him on 
the victory of the Boyne, she says, " When 
" I heard the joyful news from Mr. Butler, 
iC I was in pain to know what was become of 
" the late King, and durst not ask him. But 
" when Lord Nottingham came, I did 
" venture to do it, and had the satisfaction 



212 DEATH OF A FRIEND. 

" to know he was safe. I know, I need 
iC not beg you to let him be taken care of, 
" for I am confident you will for your own 
cc sake. Yet, add that to all your kindness, 
(i and for my sake let people know, you 
" would have no hurt come to his person .'' 
She died of the small -pox on the 28th of 
December, 1694, in the thirty-third year of 
her age, greatly beloved and regretted. 

Page 77, line 11. 

This was a tribute to the memory of an 
ever dear and regretted friend, who died 
on the 6th of June, 1813. It was written 
immediately after her death, and contains 
as correct a delineation of her general 
character, as an unreserved intimacy of 
above thirty years could supply. 

Page 89, line 16. 

Cornaro was born at Venice in 1464, 
being the descendant of one of the noble 
families of that State. In early life he is 



CORNARO. 213 

said to have injured his health by intem- 
perance, and by indulging his propensity 
to anger, so as by the age of thirty-live to 
have greatly impaired his constitution ; but 
that when he perceived the bad effects of 
his unregulated passions and appetites, he 
succeeded in acquiring such a command 
over himself, and in adopting such a system 
of temperance, as to recover his health and 
vigour, and to enjoy life to an extreme old 
age. He died at Padua in 1566, while he 
was sitting in his arm chair, being then 
above an hundred years old. " Such (says 
this amiable and happy old man, in the 
first of four Essays on a sober and temperate 
life) are the effects of this sober life, that 
at my present age of eighty-three, I have 
been able to write a very entertaining 
comedy, abounding with innocent mirth 
and pleasant jests. This species of 
composition (he observes) is generally 
the child and offspring of youth, as 
tragedy is of old age ; the former being 
by its facetious, and sprightly turn, suited 
to the bloom of life, and the latter by its 



214 CORNARO. 

gravity, adapted to riper years." — The 
mild and equable temper, which he ac- 
quired by resolution and perseverance, 
appears to have had a great share in the 
health and vivacity, which marked his 
latter course of life. Speaking of himself 
at the age of 86, he says, " I was born with 
a choleric disposition, insomuch that there 
was no living with me ; but I took notice 
of it, and considered, that a person swayed 
by his passion, must at certain times be no 
better than a madman ; I mean, at those 
times, when he suffers his passions to pre- 
dominate, because he then renounces his 
reason and understanding. I therefore 
resolved to make my choleric disposition 
give way to reason ; so that now, though 
born choleric, 1 never suffer anger entirely 

to overcome me." In the account which 

this amiable old man gives of the occupa- 
tions which filled up his time, there is 
something extremely pleasing and interest- 
ing ; particularly, when he speaks of the 
good health and spirits which he enjoys, 
and observes how gay, pleasant, and good 



CORNARO, 215 

humoured he was ; how free from every 
perturbation of mind, and every disagree- 
able thought ; in lieu of which, joy and 
peace had so firmly fixed their residence 
in his bosom, as never to depart from it. 
— ci I contrive (he continues) to spend 
every hour with the greatest delight and 
pleasure ; having frequent opportunities of 
conversing with many honourable gentle- 
men, — men, valuable for their sense and 
good manners, their acquaintance with 
letters, and every other good quality. Then, 
when I cannot enjoy their conversation, I 
betake myself to the reading of some good 
book. When I have read as much as I 
like, I write ; endeavouring in this and in 
every thing else, to be of service to others 
to the utmost of my power.— -My estate is 
divided by a wide and rapid branch of the 
river Brenta; on both sides of which there 
is a considerable extent of country, con- 
sisting entirely of fertile and well cultiva- 
ted fields. Besides, this district is now, 
God be praised, exceedingly well inhabited, 
which it was not at first, but rather the 



216 CORNARO. 

reverse ; for it was marshy, and the air so 
unwholesome, as to make it a residence 
fitter for snakes than men. But on my 
draining of the waters, the air mended; 
and the people resorted to it so fast, and 
increased to such a degree, that it soon 
acquired the perfection, in which it now 
appears : hence I may say with truth, that 
I have offered on this place an altar and 
temple to God, with souls to adore him, 
These are things, which afford me infinite 
pleasure, comfort, and satisfaction, as often 
as I go to see and enjoy them. — At the 
same seasons every year, I revisit some of 
the neighbouring cities ; and enjoy such of 
my friends as live there, taking the great- 
est pleasure in their company and conver- 
sation : and by their means I also enjoy 
the conversation of other men of parts, who 
live in the same places ; such as architects, 
painters, sculptors, musicians, and hus- 
bandmen, with whom this age most cer- 
tainly abounds. I visit their new works ; 
I revisit their former ones ; and I always 
learn something, which gives me satisfac- 



CORNARO. 217 

tion. I see the palaces, gardens, antiqui- 
ties ; and with these, the squares and other 
public places, the churches, and fortifica- 
tions ; leaving nothing unobserved, from 
whence I may reap either entertainment or 
instruction. But what delights me most, is 
in my journies backwards and forwards, to 
contemplate the situation and other beau- 
ties of the places I pass through ; some in 
the plain, others on hills, adjoining to 
rivers and fountains, with a great many 
fine houses and gardens. — Such are my 
genuine and no trifling satisfactions : such 
are the recreations and diversions of my 
old age, which is so much the more to be 
valued than the old age, or even youth, of 
other men ; because, being freed by God's 
grace from the perturbations of the mind 
and the infirmities of the body, it no longer 
experiences any of those contrary emotions, 
which torment a number of young men, 
and many old ones destitute of strength 
and health, and every other blessing." — 
His diet consisted of bread, meat, eggs, 
and soup. He was very temperate in point 



218 FLOYER. 

of quantity, not exceeding in the day three 
quarters of a pound of food, and a pint of 
new wine. He adopted this regimen, 
finding it best agree with his stomach, 
which was naturally weak. To others he 
recommends more variety and quantity of 
food, if they find it agree with them. His 
preference of new wine, was occasioned by 
wine of more than a year old, not so well 
agreeing with his stomach. — -He passed 
with health and comfort beyond his hun- 
dredth year, and died, as he had lived for 
his last threescore years, exempt from pain 
and suffering. 

Page 90, line 3. 

Sir John Floyer was Physician to 
Queen Anne. He died in January 1734. 
— In one of the Bishop's letters to Mr. 
Knightly, (dated from Hartlebury, 4th July 
1730) the following passage occurs, refer- 
ring to this gentleman : — f Sir John Floyer 
c has been with me some weeks ; and all 
' my neighbours are surprised to see a man 



BIBLE SOCIETY. 219 

* of eighty-five, who has his memory, un- 
' derstanding, and all his senses good ; and 
' seems to labour under no infirmity. — 
( He is of a happy temper, not to be moved 
c ivith ivhat he cannot remedy ; which, I 
' really believe, has in a great measure 
' helped to preserve his health and prolong 
' his days. 

Page 104, line 9. 

This alludes to the operations of " the 
" Society for promoting Christian Know- 
" ledge, and of the Society for the propa- 
" gation of the gospel in foreign parts." 
The recent establishment of a third, — 
" The British and Foreign Bible Society," 
— its astonishing exertions, and its rapid 
increase and success, — will naturally recur 
to the reader's mind. In the short period 
of ten years, it has supplied almost every 
nation and language of the earth with the 
Bible. In 1805, its income was only equal 
to an expenditure of six hundred and nine- 
ty-one pounds. In consequence however, 
in some degree, of an ill-founded jealousy 



220 BIBLE SOCIETY. 

and opposition, its income was increased 
in 1811, to more than £32,000; and in 
the next year (1812) to above £76,000. 
In 1813, it exceeded £87,000 ; and in 
1814 the year's receipts amounted to nearly 

ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND POUNDS ; which 

have been applied, in conveying the word of 
god, not only to our own countrymen, but 
to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, 
and people. Like the little cloud seen 
from the top of Mount Carmel, it has kept 
increasing, till it is now pouring down the 
living water, not only on the British domi- 
nions, but throughout the whole earth. 
Of the sum which I have mentioned of 
<£100,000. (the income of the last year 
1814) above sixty thousand pounds were 
contributed by four hundred and eighty six 
auxiliary and branch Societies, connected 
with it in the British dominions. The 
publication^ of the sacred Scriptures, made 
or promoted by the Bible Society, extend 
to fifty-five different languages and diaiects. 
With a pecuniary assistance from the So- 
ciety of £28,700., there have been printed 



CHILLINGWORTH. 221 

abroad, in the same year, 200,000 Bibles 
and Testaments, for the use of the foreign 
poor of every sect and denomination, and in 
every quarter of the globe. This is exclu- 
sive of the sum of £61,217. 18s. Id. ex- 
pended in the same year by the same So- 
ciety, in printing Bibles and Testaments, 
for the supply of our own poor at home. — 
The existence and exertions of these three 
great societies, forpurposes so benevolent 
and disinterested, are indeed most honour- 
able to the age and country, in which we 
live ; and offer a powerful antidote to the 
evils incidental to commerce, opulence, 
luxury, and extended dominion. May they 
long flourish for the benefit of mankind ! 
Dec. 21st 1815. 



Page 106, line 16. 

Mr. Ghillingworth, whom Archbishop 
Tillotson justly calls the glory of his age 
and nation, was born at Oxford in 1602. 
Archbishop Laud, then a Fellow of St. 
John's College, was his godfather. He 



222 CHILLINGWORTH. 

was scholar, and afterwards fellow of Tri- 
nity College, Oxford ; when he was pre- 
vailed upon by one Fisher, a Jesuit, to quit 
the English Church for that of Rome, 
and to remove to the Jesuits' College at 
Doway. For his return to the English 
church, he was chiefly indebted to the cor- 
respondence and arguments of his god- 
father Archbishop Laud, then Bishop of 
London. Upon full and serious inquiry, he 
afterwards became an enlightened and 
zealous Protestant. He had refused Church 
preferment, from scruples as to some of 
the thirty-nine articles, and the Athanasian 
Creed. These scruples, however, were af- 
terwards removed by a conviction, that it w r as 
not a subscription, declaratory of assent or 
belief, (as he had considered it) but to ar- 
ticles of peace and union, not to be preach- 
ed against. During the civil war, he was 
very zealously attached to the royal cause ; 
and, having been taken prisoner in Arundel 
castle in December 1643, died a few weeks 
after, in consequence of the hardships he 
had endured. He was then in his 42dyear. 



CHILLINGWORTH. 223 

His great work, intitled " the religion of 

PROTESTANTS A SAFE WAY TO SALVATION," 

is unequalled in perspicuity and closeness 
of argument. Mr, Locke proposes it, as 
the object of study for all who would excel 
in right reasoning. His defence of our 
separation from the Church of Rome, should 
be well considered by those Protestants, 
who are disposed to deal hardly with other 
denominations of Christians. — By the re- 
1 ligion of Protestants (he says) I do not 
c understand the doctrine of Luther, or Cal- 
6 vin, or Melanchton ; — nor the confession 
f of Augusta or Geneva, nor the catechism 
( of Heidelberg, nor the articles of the 
' Church of England, — no, nor the har- 
' mony of Protestant confessions ; but that 
6 wherein they all agree, and which they 
c all subscribe with a greater harmony, as 
' a perfect rule of their faith and actions, — 
' that is, the Bible. The Bible, I say, the 
c Bible only, is the Religion of Protestants ! 
c — I for my part, after a long and (as I verily 
' believe and hope) an impartial search of 
' the true way to eternal happiness, do 



224 CHILLINGWORTH. 

c profess plainly, that I cannot find any 
e rest for the sole of my foot, but upon this 
1 rock only. I see plainly and with my 
c own eyes, that there are Popes against 
£ Popes, Councils against Councils, some 
' Fathers against others, the same Fathers 
' against themselves, a consent of Fathers 
( of one age against a consent of Fathers of 
' another age. Traditive interpretations of 
i Scripture are pretended ; but there are 
' few or none to be found : no tradition, 
i but only of Scripture, can derive itself 
i from the fountain, but may be plainly 
' proved to have been brought in, in such 
' an age after Christ, — or that in such 
c an age, they w r ere not in. In a word, there 
' is no sufficient certainty, but of Scripture 
6 only, for any considering man to build 
' upon. — I will think no man the worse 
e man nor the worse Christian. — I will love 
' no man the less, for differing in opinion 
c from me : and what measure I meet to 
' others, I expect from them again. I am 
' fully assured that God does not, and 
' therefore that men ought not to require 



FENELON. 225 

c any more of any man than this, — to 

4 BELIEVE THE SCRIPTURE TO BE God's WORD, 
6 TO ENDEAVOUR TO FIND THE TRUE SENSE 
* OF IT, AND TO LIVE ACCORDING TO IT !' 



Page 111, line 16. 

Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, a 
younger son of the Count de la Mothe 
Fenelon, was born in 1651. Zealous and 
enthusiastic in the duties of his sacred 
profession , he no sooner was ordained 
priest, than he meditated a voyage to 
Canada, with a view of devoting his life 
to the conversion of the Indians. This 
being given up as then impracticable, he 
adopted the project of going as a mission- 
ary to the Levant. But his talents and zeal 
were destined to be otherwise employed. 
Having distinguished himself both as a 
preacher and a writer, he was, in 1689, ap- 
pointed Preceptor to the Duke of Burgundy 
and his two younger brothers, the three 
sons of the Dauphin. His extraordinary 
exertions and success in their education, 

Q 



226 FENELON. 

obtained for him the Archbishopric of Cam- 
bray. Soon after Fenelon's conse cration, the 
tenets of the Quietists drew the attention of 
the public. Their general purport was, that 
ci man ought to love God for his own per- 
u fections, without any reference to future 
" reward or punishment; devoted silently 
" to the contemplation of the deity, with 
" feelings, that neither language can ex- 
" press, or thought embody." — The lives 
of the Quietists were pious and unexcep- 
tionable : but to their doctrines it was ob- 
jected, that they excluded hope, the foun- 
dation of Christian virtue, and fear, the 
beginning of Christian wisdom ; substi- 
tuting a passive and quiescent devotion, 
for that constant and assiduous prayer, 
which is expressly enjoined by our blessed 
Saviour. The Archbishop, though he held 
some of their doctrines to be erroneous, and 
had assisted in the examination of them, 
yet declined to join in an unqualified and 
severe censure of them. Being thereupon 
pressed to declare his sentiments on the 
subject, he produced his " Explication des 



FENELON. 227 

Maximes des Saints sur la Vie interieure ;'' 
which however not satisfying Bossuet, the 
Bishop of Meaux, he denounced to the 
King, what he called the fanaticism of his 
mitred brother. Lewis the XIV. ; desirous 
of compromising a life of vicious indulgence 
by the tyranny of intolerant bigotry, imme- 
diately exiled the Archbishop from his 
court, and treated him with the most cruel, 
unprincipled, and unrelenting severity. 
The case was submitted to the Pope ; who a 
at the instance of the King, instigated by 
Bossuet, pronounced a tardy and unwil- 
ling censure of some expressions of the 
Archbishop's, not as being in themselves 
heretical, but as being capable of mis- 
leading the weak and pious Christian. To 
this sentence Fenelon instantly submitted, 
with a degree of humility and resignation, 
that gained the hearts of all, except of 
his malignant opponents. The Pope's ob- 
servation on the termination of the contest, 
was " that Fenelon was in fault for too 
" great love of God, and his enemies equally 
" in fault for too little love of their neigh- 



228 FENELON. 

il bour:" his words to Fenelon's opponents 
were these : Peccavit excessu arnoris di- 
vini, sed vos peccasiis defectu amoris prox- 
imo. — Fenelon continued in his diocese, 
universally beloved and respected, until his 
death, at the age of sixty-five. His life 
has been the subject of several publications. 
The last was written by Beausset, Bishop 
of Alais, in 1808. Mr. Butler has made an 
interesting abridgment from it, to which 
I have chiefly referred. — Quietism origi- 
nated at Rome, in the sixteenth century, 
with a Spanish Monk of the name of 
Molinos. It was known in Spain in the 
time of Cervantes ; as appears by a sen- 
tence which he puts in the mouth of the 
Governor of Barataria, who was not a 
Quietist : — " I have heard it preached 
" (says the great Sancho) that God is to 
" be loved for himself alone, without our 
" being moved by the hope of reward, or 
" the fear of punishment : though, for my 
" part, I am more inclined to love and 
ee serve him for what he is able to do for 
" me. 55 



METHODISM. 229 

Page 112, line 23. 

Methodism had originated in 1729, with 
Mr. Charles and Mr. John Wesley (public 
tutors of Christ Church, and Lincoln Col- 
lege, Oxford) agreeing with several of their 
pupils to meet regularly to study the 
Scriptures. The Methodists were joined 
in 1735 by Mr. Whitfield ; and in 1740, 
were increasing rapidly in number and 
power. Being at this time excluded from 
the Churches and Chapels of the establish- 
ment, they began preaching in the fields ; 
and justified themselves, not only on the 
ground of necessity as in the case of the 
Scotch clergy,- who when they cannot other- 
wise obtain accommodation for all their 
flock, preach occasionally in the fields ; but 
also by the example of our Blessed Saviour, 
who preached not only in the temple, but 
on the mount, by the sea-side, and in the 
wilderness.— -They began at this time to 
ordain for the ministry, which gave great 
offence, Here also they defended them- 
selves, on the ground of the necessity of 



230 METHODISM. 

continuing by ordination, the power which 
they had received ; and they also claimed 
the privilege of a divine call and command, 
to preach the gospel with demonstration 
of the spirit. Their manner of preaching was 
earnest and powerful, but at the same time 
objected to, as sometimes being mixed with 
a familiarity of manner, which if not pro- 
fane, was in many instances indecorous. 
To this they answered, that if the vicious, 
the ignorant, and the thoughtless are to be 
addressed, — if sinners are to be called to 
repentance, — and if it be the object to 
awaken those who are dead in their sins, 
an impressive and attractive manner is 
absolutely necessary. — They affected a de- 
gree of contempt for human learning ; as 
if the experience of the monkish ages had 
not shewn, that when learning was neg- 
lected and despised, the doctrines of 
Christianity were corrupted and deterio- 
rated. — The hostility, which they encoun- 
tered from the clergy of the established 
Church, induced them to retaliate by cast- 
ing improper and unworthy reflections on 



IMMORTALITY. 231 

the Parochial Clergy, whom they stigma- 
tised as their indolent, earthly-minded, 
pleasure-taking brethren ; censuring them 
for neglect of their duty, and observing that 
people would be every where willing to 
hear, if the ministers were ready to teach 
the truth, as it is in Jesus. Upon this, 
Bishop Gibson very justly observes in his 
caution against enthusiasm, contained in 
his fourth Pastoral Letter, that ' the success 
' of ministers in the discharge of their duty, 
' depends greatly upon the esteem and 
' good opinion of their people ; and they, 
e who go about to represent the parochial 
c clergy as unable or unwilling to teach 
' their people aright, are so far answerable 
' for defeating the good effects, that their 
' ministry might otherwise have/ 

Page 122, line 10. 

It is very gratifying to contemplate the 
forebodings of immortality, which cheered 
and illuminated the close of Bishop Hough's 
life. In a letter to Mrs. Knightley on the 



232 IMMORTALITY. 

loss of a friend, he observes upon the power 
of faith, to open the regious of eternal bliss 5 
and discover those, who have been bright 
examples in this world, in so glorious a 
state there, as would animate hope, abate 
regret, and invigorate endeavours to follow 
them. " Who (he continues) can conceive 
the transport of joy that will attend such a 
meeting? and how insignificant will the 
former short separation appear? Indeed, 
Madam, there was a time when I possessed 
one (alluding to his dear and regretted 
wife) who was the desire of mine eyes, and 
the delight of my heart. I relished every 
thing with her, and nothing without her. 
We both knew the common fate of man- 
kind ; that a parting was unavoidable. It 
was very often the subject of our discourse, 
and I will not say what convulsions at- 
tended it ; but I thank God, I had the hope 
of a Christian, and that supported me : and 
let you and me keep up our spirits in that 
confidence, that the variable and transitory 
state in which we now live will soon pass 
over ; when we and our friends shall find 



STUDIOUS MEN. 283 

ourselves together again, — in separable, and 
unalterably happy for evermore." 

Page 124, line 2. 

Of the literary characters alluded to 
in the text, under the title of ana, St. 
Evremond, as well as Huet, passed the age 
of 90 ; Chevereau that of 88, Valesius 
85, Longerue 82, Poggio 79, and Duchat 
and Segrais 77. Furetiere died at 68, and 
Cardinal Perron at 62. The other two 
did not live to attain the age of sixty.— Of 
literary men noticed in the present work, 
Sancroft died at 77, Gibson at 79 ; New- 
ton, Waller, and Clement the Twelfth, 
passed the period of 80 ; and Hough, 
Robinson, Fleury, Floyer, Maynard, and 
Wren exceeded the advanced age of ninety. 
— Bishop Huet himself was a remarkable 
instance of health and longevity, in a very 
studious man. He had been a hard student 
from his infancy ; and i neither the heat of 
' youth, nor multiplicity of business, nor the 
' love of company, nor the hurry of the 



234 CERVANTES. 

? world, had ever been able to moderate 
c his invincible love of letters'.- — Huet was 
born on the 8th of February 1636. His 
literary attainments led to his appointment 
in 1659, of Subpreceptor to the Dauphin : 
and to him we are chiefly indebted for the 
Delphin editions of the classics. Though 
his studies directed him to the church, he 
did not enter into holy orders until 1676, 
when he was 46 years of age. In 1685, 
he was nominated to the Bishoprick of 
Avranches, which he resigned in 1699 ; and 
having spent the remaining twenty years of 
his life in devotion and study, died on the 
26th of January 1721, in his ninety-first 
year. 

Page 128, line 19. 

The Bishop alludes in this place to 
passages in Don Quixote, levelled at the 
abominable tyranny of the inquisition, the 
absurd doctrine of flagellation, and the 
vices and frauds of papal Rome. The dis- 
inchantment of Dulcinea by the whipping 
of Sancho, has an evident reference to what 



CERVANTES. 235 

was then a great source of wealth to the 
clergy; who exacted large sums from the 
opulent, under the pretence of self-inflicted 
flagellations, to compensate for the sins of 
those, who could afford to pay for the 
compromise. There were, however, some 
who inflicted this penance on themselves 
with real severity. The great Lope de 
Vega, then Secretary to the Inquisition, 
is said to have died of the effects of this 
self-applied discipline. Sancho at first ob- 
jects to it ; he does not see what his pen- 
ance and sufferings can have to do with the 
sins and transgressions of others. But as 
soon as he is to be paid for every lash, he 
undergoes the penance like a true friar, 
taking care so to manage it, as he intimates 
the priests did their flagellations, as not 
to feel any pain from it. — What shall we 
say of the Quixotism of Cervantes, in 
thus boldly attacking this abuse, amidst a 
credulous laity attached to it, and a knavish 
clergy interested in the continuance of the 
imposition ? The adventure of the speaking 
head, which Cervantes tells us, " was 



236 CERVANTES. 

"■ broken in pieces by order of those watch- 
" ful centinels of our faith, the gentlemen 
c< of the inquisition," — and that of the 
prophesying ape, as to whom Don Quixote 
expresses his surprise, that he has not been 
accused to the inquisition, and examined by 
torture, till he confess by virtue of what or 
whom he divines, — are both levelled at 
the inquisition. In that of the restoration 
of Altesidora to life, Sancho Panza was 
dressed in the ridiculous dress, which was 
worn at the stake by the victims of the in- 
quisition^ Cervantes himself tells us. Even 
if he had not risked the observation, the 
allusion w r ould have been obvious, on com- 
paring the account of Sancho's dress, with 
the following account of the execution of 
the Bohemian Martyr, John Huss; who was 
burnt alive in 1415, for holding that, in 
the eucharist, the ivine as well as the bread 
ought to be administered to the laity: — ' They 
e put a paper coronet on his head, on which 
' they had painted three devils, with this 
' inscription, an arch heretick ; and said 
" we devote thy soul to the infernal devils^ 



CERVANTES. 237 

c When the painted paper was put on his 
6 head, one of the bishops said, " now we 
c commit thy soul to the devil" At the stake? 
c the paper crown falling off his head, the 
c soldiers put it on again, saying, that it 
c must be burnt with the devils whom he 
1 served/— The devoting of the soul of their 
victim to the infernal devils, was pro sa- 
lute animce. — On these painted flames and 
painted devils, however, Sancho sarcastically 
observes, " well enough yet ! these do 

" NOT BURN ME, NOR DO THOSE CARRY ME 

C( away." — Sancho's account of his own 
orthodoxy, is very catholic: — " I believe 
" in all that our holy church prescribes ; 
'• and I mortally hate all Jews and Here" 

" ticks.' 7 What, however, this original 

and inimitable author might have done, 
and how far, in his display of the vices and 
corruptions of papal Rome, he would have 
surpassed all that Lucian has said on the 
follies and absurdities of Polytheism, may 
be conjectured from an anecdote in the 
Segraisiana: — Upon the French ambas- 
sador complimenting Cervantes, on the wit 



238 CERVANTES. 

and humour of Don Quixote, he replied, " I 
" would have made it much more diverting, 
" if I had not been afraid of the inquisition." 
— The reader may, perhaps, not dislike to 
be reminded briefly of some of the leading- 
incidents of his life. — Cervantes was born 
in October 1547, and was educated at 
Madrid. In 1571, he lost his left hand at 
the battle of Lepanto * and in September 
1575, as he was passing in a galley to 
Spain, he was taken by a Corsair, and 
carried a slave to Barbary, He obtained 
his liberty in 1580 ; returned to Spain, and 
devoted the remainder of his life to literary 
pursuits. His Galatea was published at 
Madrid in 1584. For the next ten years, 
he was employed in writing for the Spanish 
stage, and produced no less than thirty 
comedies during that period. From 1594, 
he passed some years in La Mancha, where 
he was employed on his Don Quixote ; 
the first part of which he published at 
Madrid in 1605, and the second part in 
1615. He died in his sixty -ninth year, on 
the 23d of April 1616 ; the same day that 



HOARDING. 239 

deprived the world of our dramatic poet, 
Shakespeare. 

Page 137, line 6. 

Bishop Hough generally kept a sum of 
money by him for contingencies. As ex- 
amples of the use which he made of his 
hoarding, I will give two well-authenti- 
cated anecdotes ; one of a public nature, 
the other of aprivate one. — The collectors 
for a charity, calling on him one day for his 
contribution, the Bishop ordered them 
£500.: and his secretary making some 
demur to so large a sum, he said, " you are 
<e right, Harrison, it is not enough. Give 
" the gentlemen a thousand pounds : you 
" will find them in my bureau." — The other 
is of a private nature. — A poor widow 
applied to him for mitigation of a fine 
on the renewal of her lease. The Bishop 
heard her story, forgave her the whole fine, 
and presented her with <£100. towards the 
support of her numerous family ; saying to 
his steward, " How can we apply this 



240 CHARITY SCHOOLS. 



money, good Harrison, to a better pur- 



pose?' 



Page 148, line 7. 



About the beginning of the eighteenth 
century, efforts were made by an associa- 
tion of pious and elevated individuals, both 
of the clergy and laity, the objects of which, 
as expressed in the preamble to their first 
subscription rolls, were " promoting Chris- 
i( tian knowledge, by erecting catechetical 
ci schools, by raising lending-catechetical 
" libraries in the several market towns of 
" the kingdom, and by distributing good 
" books." The Education of youth, by 
the erection and establishment of charity 
and Sunday schools, was adopted by them, 
as an object of the first importance ; and 
it appears by the statement of the Society in 
the year 1741, that no less than sixteen 
hundred charity schools, had already been 
established in England and Wales. All 
this was admirably calculated to check the 
gross and licentious manners, which had 
prevailed among all classes of people after 



OCCUPATION. 24l 

the Restoration. Much good has certainly 
been done by the schools then established ; 
though many of them now require to be 
brought into more activity, and to be made 
more generally useful, and more conform- 
able to the benevolent views of the found- 
ers. Much indeed still remains to be done, 
notwithstanding the great exertions which 
have been lately made, and are now mak- 
ing in every part of the kingdom. England 
has never yet had a legal provision for 
universal education, such as Scotland has 
now enjoyed for above a century : nor has 
it till lately, had the benefit of Dr. Bell's 
invaluable discovery, which is likely to 
render such a legal provision of less mo- 
ment in future. 



Page 154, line 13. 

There are very few persons, who have 
not met with cases of hypochondriacs, who 
have been relieved and made more happy, 
by useful and disinterested occupation in 
promoting the welfare of others : but I 
R 



242 OCCUPATION. 

have not known of any instance of a cure 
perfected in a case apparently so hopeless, 
as that of Captain Blake, distinguished for 
his benevolent exertions, in the attempt to 
supply London with fish by land carriage. 
— The late Dr. Heberden used very fre- 
quently to be sent for by him. The Cap- 
tain was a hypochondriac , attentive to 
every little feeling, and anxious about its 
consequences. In this state he continued 
for several years ; and was during that time 
seldom more than a week or two, without 
consulting the Doctor; who had tried not 
only all the medicines, which he thought 
likely to correct any cause of disease aris- 
ing from bodily infirmity, but every argu- 
ment, which his humanity and good sense 
could suggest, for the comfori of his mind ; 
but in vain. At length Dr. Heberden heard 
no more of his patient ; till after a consi- 
derable interval, he found that Captain 
Blake had formed a project of conveying 
fish to London, from some of the sea-ports 
in the west, by means of little carts 
adapted for expeditious land carriage. The 



PARENTAL AFFECTION. 243 

arrangement and various occupation of the 
mind, in forwarding this object, were suffi- 
cient entirely to supersede all sense of his 
former malady; which from that time, 
as far as is known, never returned. — The 
late Dr. Heberden used frequently to men- 
tion in conversation the circumstances of 
this extraordinary case : which was com- 
municated to me by his son, the present 
Dr. Heberden, through our common friend, 
the Bishop of Durham. 

Page 157, line 14. 

The following confirmation of this re- 
mark, I have from an authority on which I 
can depend. — In the year 1789, during the 
prevalence of a partial scarcity in Bengal, 
many of the poorer natives were driven to 
send some of their children to Calcutta, 
and offer them for sale. A noble lord, at 
that time a Member of the Supreme Coun- 
cil of Bengal, directed his servant to pur- 
chase them, giving the parents at the same 
time an assurance that, on the return o 



244 MACCAIL. 

plenty, their children should be restored to 
them, on application. Of those purchased, 
there was only one reclaimed by its parent ; 
and that, the child of a poor woman, who 
derived her subsistence from the lowest 
species of labour ; and the child teas deaf 
and dumb, incapable of making any return 
for her care. The prospects of this child 
would have been dark and cheerless, with- 
out this heaven-directed sympathy and 
affection. 

Page 171, line 14. 

Maccail was a Scotch probationer 
preacher, one of the sacrifices offered at 
Edinburgh, by Archbishop Sharp in 1666, 
to the bigotry and tyranny of the court. He 
sunk under the torture ; and died in a 
rapture of joy ; uttering with a firm voice, 
and in a manner that astonished his hearers, 
the words which appear to be quoted by 
Bishop Hough in the dialogue. — Sharp fell 
a sacrifice to public indignation, thirteen 
years after, in 1679. .. , ... 



CLOSE OF LIFE. 245 

Page 174, line 11. 

The tranquil anticipation of a future 
state, and the forebodings of eternal and 
unfailing happiness, had diffused over the 
close of the Bishop's life, a gleam of light 
which displayed itself in his countenance, 
and in his conversation and correspondence. 
Extracts from two or three of his letters 
will, I am persuaded be acceptable to 
the Christian reader. — -The first I shall 
offer him, is of the 6th of April 1743, 
written six days before he entered into his 
ninety third year, and only four weeks 
before his death: — " I apprehend I shall 
" not live to see much more of the coming 
" year, though I wear out leisurely, and 
" am free from sickness and pain. The 
" moderate degree of understanding, which 
ci God was pleased to give me, does not 
" impair. — -I have no doubt, but that when 
cc our gracious redeemer comes in all his 
" glory to judge mankind, you and I, with 
" all faithful people, shall, through the 
" mercy of God, and in his merits, find a 



246 CLOSE OP LIFE. 

iC place at his right hand. What our 
'- portion may be in his kingdom, is known 
(i only to his Father and himself; but 
" this is revealed to us, that there are 
" pleasures above our conception, and 
cc durable to all eternity."* — The other, to 
Lord Bigby, was a fortnight after :■ — " I 
" am weak and forgetful, having as little 
" inclination to business, as ability to per- 
<c form it. In other respects, I have ease, 
iC if it may not more properly be called 
a indolence, to a degree beyond what I 
" durst have thought on, when years began 
ce to multiply upon me. I wait contentedly 
ie for a deliverance out of this life into a 
Ci better, in humble confidence, that by the 
" mercy of God, through the merits of his 
" Son, I shall stand at the resurrection, on 
" his right hand : and when you, my Lord, 
" have ended those days that are to come, 
" as innocently and exemplarily as those 
" that are past, I doubt not of our meeting 
" in that state, where the joys are un- 
" speakable, and will always endure." — 
Four days before his death, in a letter to 



CLOSE OF LIFE. 

his friend Bishop Gibson, he expresses 
himself thus : — "I lately saw the day when 
" I entered into the ninety third year of 
" my life ; and I thought it a very proper 
" season to make particular inquiry into 
ct the state of it. I found the last year to 
" have impaired every faculty of mind and 
i( body, more than I could have imagined ; 
iC and by such imperceptible degrees, that 
" I was not aware how treacherously it 
" stole upon me, and how deep impressions 
iC it had made, till the several items of 
" my loss came together in full view ; and 
" then it appeared I had suffered so much, 
" as left little to support the remainder of 
(i life. I think it can be but of short du- 
" ration ; and I thank God, the prospect 
" gives me no uneasiness. 5? — His dying 
words to some of his friends and neigh- 
bours, who attended the Bishop in his last 
moments, were " we part to meet again, 
" i hope in endless joys,"— It was ob- 
served by a person then present that, " as 
he had on former occasions expressed his 
well grounded hopes of immortality, so 



248 CLOSE OF LIFE. 

they gradually grew stronger upon him, 
and seemed to be more vigorous in pro- 
portion to the decays of his body. — His 
lamp of life burnt clear, if not bright to the 
last ; and though his body was weak, he 
had no pain or sickness. — His end was 
peace, and he enjoyed tranquillity at the 
last. The easiness of his death seems to 
have been as much derived, from the se- 
renity OF HIS MIND AND A GOOD CON- 
SCIENCE, as from his insensibly exhausted 
spirits, or rather by the concurrence of both. 
In the scripture language, he gently fell 
asleep." — Who would not wish for 

SUCH A CLOSE OF MORTAL EXISTENCE ? LET 
ME DIE THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS ; AND 



LET MY LAST END BE LIKE HIS 



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